


Tea and Ashes

by WildexXx



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Confusion, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Questioning, Teen Jeremy, Unrequited Love, teen James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildexXx/pseuds/WildexXx
Summary: James May and Jeremy Clarkson, both young adults, decide to share a flat to save money. Will other friendships and lovers break these two apart? Will it bring them closer together?





	1. Chapter 1

AN: I obviously do not own any of these people. I'm only writing this for a bit of fun. I have tried to keep the timeline as close to reality as possible. For those who are unaware, Sarah Frater is Mr. May's current girlfriend. Well, enjoy!!  


“James!” David May called from his brother’s Mark 1 Vauxhall Cavalier. “How many boxes do we ‘ave left?”  
“I don’t know. That’s all, I think,” the lanky, long-haired boy said as he hauled a large box to his new(well, new to him) family saloon car. Breathless, he dropped the box into the back seat. He shut the door and joined his family in the house. A few moments later he informed his parents that he and his brother were going to the pub for a farewell pub meal, promising that he would not drink. Twenty minutes later, James and David were sitting at a table, a glass of coke and a pint of Guinness before them. The smell of alcohol and tobacco was sitting on the thick cloud of smoke that hazed about the room.  
“Excited?” David asked, sipping his coke, and laying down the menu. James shrugged, a faint smile on his face. “Nervous?” This earned the same reaction.  
“If I’m perfectly honest, I would say I’m rather indifferent. I mean, I’ve been waiting for this for ages, and now that it’s here... Just a little surreal,” he said, drinking from the chilled mug. His brother smiled.  
“I think I know what you mean. I know it’s cliche, but it’s gonna be strange without you at ‘ome. Remember what’s like when Jane left?”  
“It wasn’t really that different, to be honest. Just quieter.”  
“True. But still, I don’t want it to be quieter. And, worse of all, it’s just gonna be me and Sarah! You know how annoying she can be! Her and her bloke troubles!”  
“Get used to it, mate. You have two years left. Well, a year if she goes to university. Do you know what you want to eat?”  
“The standard.”  
“Right,” James said, soon ordering two meals of steak and potato pie with chips.  
“Will you let me come visit sometimes?”  
“Of course,” James responded, half smiling. “Actually, no. I’ve changed my mind since you’ve asked such a stupid question. I’m completely disowning you- I no longer have a brother. Say, who the hell are you?”  
“Come on! It wasn’t that stupid. What if Jeremy doesn’t want me to come over? I’m sure ‘e ‘ates me.” James laughed at David’s genuine concern over this situation.  
“Calm down. It’ll be my place as much as his, so really, you can come over as often as you like. Which, realistically, won’t be that often. You’ll be busy with school, as will I, and it’s an hour and a half drive. On top of that, you can’t drive.”  
“God, you really are a buzz kill.” They thanked the waitress when she set down the rather sub-par food on the table. A few moments were spent in silence as they enjoyed their meal. In between chewing, David asked, “So, are you gonna miss Rotherham?”  
“Eh,” James said, chewing a chip. “The only friend I had here was Jeremy, and he’s coming with me.”  
“Is he excited for Lancaster?”  
“He’s not going. We talked about this, you numpty.”  
“I probably wasn’t listening,” David said, trying to shove two chips in his mouth.  
“Don’t do that, you’ll choke… Jeremy isn’t going to Lancaster. His job is moving him out in that direction, so we’re gonna live in a flat a few miles from the campus. Ya know, split the rent. It’s the most economical decision.” He took a healthy swig of his bitter beverage and let his hand rest on the side of the now half empty(or is it half full?) mug, his finger tracing the grain of the wooden table top. David looked at him, eyes slightly interested, but overall obviously not giving a toss. James was not expecting any different. He let his mind wander, and, before he knew it, they had both finished their meal. He paid for the two of them and drove home a little over cautiously. Some time later, he found himself staring at the ceiling of his and David’s bedroom, unable to sleep. God in his heaven. This is gonna happen, isn’t it? James thought and was suddenly flooded with a sense of panic. He rubbed his eyes. Alright. It IS going to happen, this much is certain. Another sure fact is no matter what I do, it will happen. Fine. Am I okay with the thought? He contemplated this for a moment. Well, it does frighten me a bit, to be brutally honest. I’m going to leave this house. Is that what I’m worried about? No. We haven’t lived here that terribly long. Is it my parents? I mean, obviously I’m going to miss them, they have always been there to guide me, but… THAT’S IT. That’s gotta be it. I’m not going to have them leering over my shoulder. So is this excitement or fear? He checked. Yes, still pretty sure this is fear. Good lord. He noticed his breathing had increased and sweat formed on his brow. All of his fears, from the trivial fleeting ones to the massive pressing ones, came pouring into his head, followed by a wave of nausea and a small pounding at his temple. In an attempt to calm himself down, he slowly got to his feet and left the room, feeling the soft carpet of the stairs beneath his feet. Once in the lounge, he put on the first and his favourite album for the record player, a J.S. Bach album . Turning the volume rather low, he walked around the room and, after “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor”, sat on the couch with his head on his knees. He was trying desperately to calm his racing mind, focusing all of his attention on the music. Only Bach, he told himself. At this moment in time, only this music matters. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. See the pattern in the music? Inhale. Exhale. It changes, but is still the same, yeah? Inhale. Exhale. Well, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. Aside from location and dependency status, nothing is changing. I am still the same James. Mum is still the same, sweet, welcoming mum. Dad is still the sharp, thorough dad. No matter what happens, everything WILL. BE. OKAY. And hell, if I’m lucky, I might even have some fun. Jeremy won’t be a horrible flatmate. Even if he is, I can avoid him. EVERYTHING. WILL. BE. OKAY. he repeated to himself. He noticed his breathing had somewhat gone back to a normal, albeit a little fast, pace. He lifted his head and rolled it to his chest and all around, cracking his neck and slightly freeing his upper body of the built-up tension. Grabbing a pillow from the sofa, James curled into a sideways foetal position on the floor. After somewhat managing to free himself of the worst of his worries, he focused completely on the music, eventually drifting off to sleep. 

 

“James? James, why are you on the floor?” The boy opened his eyes to see the face of his mother staring at him. “And you know better than to leave the record player on.”  
“Sorry, mum. Dosed off.”  
“You look terrible, James,” she said with a small note of concern in her voice. “When did you go to sleep?” she inquired, helping him to his feet.  
“I dunno. I think it was around one or something,” he responded, wiping his face.  
“Are you okay,” she asked, uncharacteristically putting her hands on either side of James’ face and furrowing her brow. He looked tiredly into her dark brown eyes. “Nervous?”  
“No, I’m fine.” he lied, earning a small slap on the face; more playful than anything.  
“Don’t lie to your mother. I can read minds, you know.” He chuckled at the reference to his early childhood. “It’s okay to be nervous. In fact, I would be worried if you weren’t. I’m nervous as hell. Now, what would you like for your last breakfast? I’ll make it for you.”  
“Just tea would be lovely.”  
“You’ll starve.”  
“I won’t,” James said shortly, returning the cushion to its place and following his mother to the kitchen.  
“Fine, have it your way.”  
“Have you made a fruitcake for the road?”  
“I made you two,” she responded, filling the kettle. “Both walnut and date.”  
“Marvelous,” James responded, getting the milk and sugar out.  
“You don’t eat those cakes until you’ve had a proper meal!”  
“Won’t, mum.” The two of them were soon joined by Mr. May, and Sarah followed. By that time, Mrs. May had served eggs and instructed James to go and wake David. He walked up the stairs slowly, feeling the wood under his hand as he moved. Stop being a sentimental sod, he thought to himself. After breakfast, he decided to ring Jeremy and tell him he’d be ready soon.  
“I will be too. Just have to settle mum down a bit and I’ll leave. I should be at your place in twenty minutes.” Jeremy said.  
Four hours later, after a final walk through of the areas of the home he most frequented and a very touching(it was touching in the way that they tried to keep it lighthearted) goodbye from his family, James found himself following Jeremy to their new flat. That gave James an hour and thirty minutes drive to think of everything that could possibly go wrong. Good, he said to himself. This is good. 

“It amazes me how you CANNOT make a proper cup of tea!” James said, setting his cup down on their small, light wood coffee table. Jeremy smiled.  
“It amazes me how particular you are. Another amazement is the fact that I haven’t even had time to settle down and I OFFER to make YOU a cuppa tea, and you then CRITICISE me for it! The nerve of it all!” He exclaimed, throwing himself back into the small brown chair next to the matching sofa(on which is where James was sat). He reached forward and sipped the tea. “It’s not even that bad!”  
“Tastes like hot piss,” James whispered as he sipped his again.  
“Then don’t drink it!”  
“Calm down, calm down. I’ll just make the tea from now on.” “Good,” Jeremy muttered, lighting a cigarette. “‘M not your mum anyway.”  
“Right. Pass me one?”  
“Not only do you insult me with your poorly founded criticism but then you ask for a cigarette? I don’t know if this living arrangement will work out, mate,” he said, passing James a cigarette and then proceeding to light it.  
“Thank you. And it’s a little late to have doubts. It’s been, what, a week? I’m not about to start repacking everything.”  
“I haven’t finished,” Jeremy chuckled. “Still have a few boxes I haven’t unpacked. Clothes, mostly. Just take ‘em out as I need ‘em.”  
“I can tell. They all smell pent-up and dusty. It’s horrible.”  
“Huh, smelling me?”  
“No, Clarkson-“  
“Haven’t caught the man feelings for me, have ya?”  
“‘Course not. It’s not difficult to smell a big, moldy sod like yourself, stomping around,” James said, throwing his feet onto the sofa. “Now, what do you feel like eating for dinner?” Jeremy took a long drag on his cigarette and looked thoughtfully into the distance. “Curry. I’m feeling curry.”  
“Sounds good to me. Are you going get it?” Jeremy looked down at his white t-shirt and boxers. “Right. Well, you call and pay for it, I’ll go pick it up.”  
“Not only do I make you tea and give you cigarettes, but I’m paying for your meal. You’re definitely taking advantage of me!”  
“A spicy chicken curry, please.”  
“Got it. Leaving now?”  
“I think so,” James said, standing. “Or maybe give the place a good clean before I leave.” Jeremy stood and walked over to the phone, searching the room as he did so.  
“It’s almost completely spotless.”  
“Yes, but those coffee stains are really getting on my nerves, to be honest. So is the dusty counter top,” he said, walking over to the gray surface, turning on the sink near the refrigerator, and running a rag under it. A few wipes greatly improved the area. The coffee stains Jeremy had managed to leave, however, were not going to come up without a fight. Before he knew it, it was time to go pick up the food. He turned to look at their modest kitchen/living area and smiled. It was homely. Well, not really, but was it tidy. Amazing, especially since his new roommate was an actual gorilla.  
“Oh, James! Before I forget, when do you start Uni?”  
“Uhhh, next week. Why?”  
“ I’m starting work Wednesday. I just wanted to know if I had a few days to myself. Okay, now off you go! Curry is awaiting!”

The first few weeks of university were exactly as James expected: stressful. Jeremy was not making the transition any easier. In the three weeks they had been living together, Jeremy had managed to annoy James incredibly close to insanity. James prided himself on being a very patient person, but his friend was really testing the limits. Not only did he dirty the place and expect James to clean it, he stayed up almost all hours of the night. James would come home after eleven in the morning and find his friend just meandering out of bed, and, of course, he was normally wearing only a pair of pants. Jeremy was allowed to sleep late, being his job only made him come in from 12 to 6. This arrangement wouldn’t be such a bother if he would keep the racket down. Jeremy had his own record player and loved to play Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd until two in the morning. While James adored both of these bands, he found it quite difficult to sleep with “Paint it Black” blaring in the room a few feet from his own. Annoyingly, Jeremy seemed interested in listening to music only when James was near passing out from exhaustion. But, as bad as living with Jeremy might have seemed on the surface, it wasn’t exactly a concentration camp. Jeremy was a good-hearted person, and if James would drag his pathetic body and bang on the door, Jeremy, for the most part, would comply. He was not a terrible person. He knew James was in a slightly worse-off financial situation, so he’d normally pick up the take-out tab, even with many protestations from James. Clarkson had even gone as far as to introduce James to a few friends he’d made in the office, just so he’d feel a little more at home. While James was a tad bit on the introverted side and wanted to cherish every moment he had to himself, he appreciated the thought. He knew Jeremy tried to make up for his shortcomings. Though sweet, these kind gestures could not keep from James’s mind the vision of James strangling Jeremy ‘till Clarkson turned blue. “But that’s friendship,” he’d think. Aside from university being a little stressful and Jeremy a little annoying, he had nothing else to complain about to his mother when she called.  
“Are you looking for a job, James? I don’t want you to spend all of your savings in your first year!”  
“I have been. At the moment work’s pretty hard to find, but I’m making a few promising connections. Hopefully, that’ll help. One acquaintance is offering to let me try out to be a minstrel for medieval banquets. I have to dress up and play the first weekend free, but at least I get to use my talents.”  
“Oh God, oh sweet Jesus in his heaven-“  
“No, mum, really it’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. I’ll get paid tips as well-“  
“James!” James heard his mother calling over the phone. From the way she was calling, he knew she was probably calling his dad in the next room. This was proven true when shortly after he heard the familiar voice of James May Sr. ask what’s wrong.  
“He’s dressing up to make ends meet, James!”  
“Sweetheart,” James heard Mr. May say. “It’s not... terrible. At least he’s getting a job. Give me the phone, darling.” he could hear his mother’s heavy breathing leave the phone and switch with his father’s steady breath. “Listen, son. If you’ve got something to say, go ahead.”  
“Pardon?” James the younger asked, slightly confused.  
“I understand you’re just trying to make ends meet, but is that all? Is there something you’re trying to say by this?”  
“No, si-“  
“Is this some form of rebellion? Or, could it possibly be that you just wanted to wear the tights- oh god. Oh god, son. Are you a-“  
“Dad, I’m not..”  
“I mean, we always had our suspicions, but-“  
“No! I’m not a homosexual- wait, you what? Just know I’m only TRYING OUT for this job because I need it. Okay? Please tell mum for me.”  
“Alright, but don’t take that tone o’ voice with me again.”  
“Yes, yes.” After a few more minutes talking to his mum, he hung up the phone. He fixed himself a glass of Jeremy’s wine and sat in the chair next to his friend. He rested his head in his hands.  
“Sounded like a lovely conversation,” Jeremy said from the sofa, looking up from his book.  
“Why didn’t you go into your room if I was bothering you?” James asked, removing his hands, sitting back. He sipped the wine.  
“It didn’t bother me. Reminded me of my mum a bit. Not quite such a worrier, though. Very difficult to stress her.”  
“I love my parents, I really do. They just know how to push my buttons. M’dad’s quite religious, ya see. His beliefs are a little strong, and I find the idea of organised religion to be quite tedious, if I’m perfectly honest.”  
“Ahhh. Has it always been like that?”  
“No, not really. Well, he has been. I started to disagree rather recently, really. I mean, I was in choir since I was a young boy. Just quit about two years ago. That’s sorta where my faith started to go downhill.”  
“Too nice for you?” Jeremy asked, smiling. “The choir, I mean.”  
“The choir? Ohhh, no. It was a brutal arena. I got into a fight with this kid, Kenneth Ingram, over who would be head boy. Punched’em in the face. The little shit.” Jeremy laughed and James smiled at this.  
“I never knew you were in the choir! I’ve known you for, what, five years?”  
“Yeah, five years. Since The family moved to Rotherham. And being in a church choir isn’t exactly something a teenager wants to broadcast to all his friends. That’s handing ammo to the enemy. Especially someone like… Well, someone like you, really.”  
“What do you mean by that?” Jeremy questioned leaning his head back on the sofa.  
“Well, you’re a manly-man. You wouldn’t treat news like that too kindly.”  
“I’m not reacting badly, am I?”  
“Well, no, but-“  
“May, I may be a manly-man, but I DO have a soul. Since you opened up to me, I will share one thing with you before I go in my room,” Jeremy said, standing up and stretching. “If you tell anyone, I will deny this. I like Lord Byron’s poetry. Now, if you ever talk about that with anyone else, I will have your head on a platter.”  
“I like Byron!” James said in a slightly defensive way to Jeremy as he walked out of the room. Jeremy stopped by his bedroom door.  
“See why I’m ashamed? You were a choir boy! We couldn’t possibly have the same interest, you great jessie,” he said, opening his door and walking through. James rolled his eyes and took a sip of wine.  
Hmmm. That was odd. Did I just open up to him? JEREMY CLARKSON? “This wine must be stronger than I thought,” he whispered to himself. He swirled the dark liquid around the glass before draining it. “Right,” he said. “Time for homework and then sleep.” 

Before James knew it, a month had flown by, and then two. It was already November and he was finally starting to settle down, make a few acquaintances. He had his eye on a certain girl working with him at the medieval banquets but had no hopes of trying to makes a move on her. Sure, they went to the pub two or three times, but James’s self-esteem was much too low to allow himself to think she may have fancied him back. In other news, he was starting to get used to Jeremy’s irritating behaviour. He had noticed that Jeremy seemed to be trying a little harder to be less of a bother. All in all, he was quite a pleasant roommate at this point. James no longer wanted to punch him for the music volume at night. They rarely squabbled, and when they did, it was soon resolved with a drink. The friendship was starting to grow, and James noticed he felt pretty comfortable near Jeremy. This was rare for James, considering the thought of contact made him a little uncomfortable. He even allowed Jeremy to give him a pat on the back, or an arm around his shoulders if it was for an appropriate length of time. He understood that his friend was a touchy person and tried to let down his guard ever so slightly with him. He also knew Jeremy would not stop, so better to adjust than to stay uncomfortable. As the time passed, though, he was trying to figure out if Jeremy was touching him more because of the lack of a defence James was putting up. “Maybe he thinks I’m comfortable with it... Should I say anything?” he asked himself one day. “No, I’m sure he doesn’t even notice. Maybe he’s just getting a little more comfortable with me.” He let it slide. However, James felt an incredibly small and insignificant, yet still unsettling weight in the pit of his stomach. This was, of course, only when Jeremy would touch him. Or, and this was rare, James would catch Clarkson looking at him as if he were observing a strange specimen; he had a look of confusion on his face. Of course, it would fade as soon as James would notice it… Well, aside from those few complaints, everything was going pretty swimmingly for James.  
“Mr. May!” Sarah said approaching him. They were in the parking lot of the main banquet building, both in normal clothes. He took a drag on his cigarette and let his eyes meet hers. He really did enjoy her smile.  
“Miss Frater! Good evening!” he stood and bowed to her in an overly dramatic way, earning a slight chuckle. He returned to his seat on the curb, smiling.  
“You did much better today. Have you been practicing?” She paused for a moment, eyes getting wide. “No, wait, that sounded horrible! I’m not saying you wee bad in the first place-“  
“Sarah, Sarah! Calm down! I get it,” James said, chuckling. “I get it! And the lute isn’t that terribly difficult, really. But yeah, I’ve been practicing. I’m glad it was noticeable.” He took a drag and continued. “Your dancing was lovely, as it always is.” Wow… Where did the sudden bravery come from? She took a seat next to him, thanking James as she did so.  
“Mind if I have a cigarette?”  
“Not at all, here you go,” he said producing the carton.  
“Light?” she asked, placing it between her full, pale lips. He apologised and she smiled in return. Placing the lighter to the end, he created a flame, noticing her eyes flicker to his for just a moment as she inhaled. ‘What was that?’ James asked himself. The eyes she just gave him seemed to be… Well, a little less than innocent. Exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction, she turned back to him, all traces of innuendo gone. James wondered for a moment if there had ever been any innuendo, to begin with. “So,” she started. “Wanna join me for a drink? Usual pub?” He put his cigarette on the pavement.  
“Sounds good to me! Oh, shit, wait. I told Clarkson he and I could have a movie night. Sorry. But definitely some other time, yeah?”  
“Definitely,” Sarah agreed. He couldn’t help but notice the slight look of disappointment on her features. They were soon gone.  
“Right. Next week for sure! I’ll give you a call over the week.”  
“Okay,” she said, getting to her feet and then helping him. “Sounds great.”  
“Good. See ya later!”

 

“‘Guns of Navarone’?” James suggested.  
“YESS,” Jeremy yelled lowly, his excitement evident.  
“The tv guide says it comes on in eight minutes,” James said, flipping to the channel. Jeremy stood to get two beers from the fridge.  
“So, how was the banquet?”  
“Not bad. Work?”  
“Not bad, not bad,” he said simply, placing the two beers in front of them and again taking his seat. “Talked with Cindy from editing. Think she fancies me.”  
“You’re so full of yourself,” James said, grinning at his friend.  
“Really! She does the classic ‘Oh! I’ve dropped m’ pencil! Let me pick it up with my low cut blouse and full cleavage right in front of your eyes,’” Jeremy responded, doing a horrible female impression. James laughed. “And she does that other thing where she laughs at EVERYTHING I say!”  
“That doesn’t mean anything! Sarah does that and she doesn’t fancy me!”  
“Sarah? That’s the minger at the banquets, isn’t she?”  
“She’s actually quite attractive.”  
“Ah. Bet she’s all looks, isn’t she? Bet she’s boring.” Jeremy said, sipping his beer and turning his attention to the small tv place on the coffee table.  
“No, she’s actually sweet and funny. We’re going to go to the pub next Friday.”  
“Again? You two go so often! Jesus, she must be incredibly boring if that’s all she can think of.” Before James could protest, Jeremy started to talk over him. “Just don’t get too crazy, mate. Don’t get anyone pregnant,” Jeremy said, trying to make a joke, but failing miserably. He looked somewhat disappointed until the start of “Navarone”, at which he perked up slightly. James did not fail to notice and was slightly perplexed by Jeremy’s behaviour. He soon left this behind and enjoyed the rest of his night with his (best?) friend. 

 

The week had flown by, and, before James knew it, Friday had arrived. His female of interest approached him, all smiles, as always.  
“Hey, James!” she greeted him.  
“Oh, uh, hey!” he said, putting his lute down as to not appear rude. He noticed that he was staring at her and tried to cover it up with, “So, who are you this week?”  
“Well, I was going for a ‘Lady of Shallot’ look. What do ya think?” she asked spinning so he could see the full costume.  
“It’s very nice, Sarah. I like it. You look nice,” he said, plucking his lute so as to avoid eye contact.  
“Thanks, James. Ya ready to go? Let’s go to the one across the street. The alcohol is stronger, and we had a pretty rough crowd. Sorta wanna drink the pain away,” she said and chuckled. He smiled.  
“Sure, that sounds great.”  
“Good,” she said smiling, adjusting her glasses. “I’m just gonna change and I’ll be ready.”  
“Me too.” A few minutes later she joined him, her paisley skirt and black low-cut blouse clashing with his pair of baggy jeans and band t-shirt.  
He thoroughly enjoyed their trips to the pub. James adored the routine of their pub visits. It all started with a pint. Sarah was not as fond of alcohol as James, so she was nearly always the designated driver. Never had she complained. After a pint or two, the pair would play a competitive game of darts. James would never miss an opportunity to state that she was completely sober, and therefore cheating. She had come to prove with time that, drunk or sober, she was ace at darts. Sarah normally gave him a run for his money. Even if she was winning, he was perfectly content watching her play. James would be lying if he said the sight of her did not enchant him. After a few rounds and a couple of drinks, Sarah would drive the two of them around town. Hours were spent talking, mostly about completely useless things, sometimes about the deep questions of life. After the fourth trip to the pub, she would always finish the evening with a small peck on his cheek. James would pull away, make brief eye contact, smile, and leave. His cowardice maddened him. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he found it impossible to kiss this girl. It wasn’t until the ninth visit that he finally worked up enough courage to make a move. But, if he were perfectly honest, she had spent most of that afternoon sending him pretty strong signals.  
“James, thank you so much for driving me home,” Sarah said. “It was only one pint, but I still think it was enough to make me a little tipsy.” James smiled.  
“I had a pint too,” he argued.  
“Yeah, but you’re bigger, that makes. A. Difference…” she said, leaning slightly into him. They were mere inches away, standing in her door frame. “Would,” she started, but paused. After a few seconds, it seemed like she built up some courage. “Would you like to come in for a nightcap?”  
“Uhh, sure. But do you mind if I use your phone?”  
“Of course. follow me,” she said, shutting the door behind him. After leading him to a phone, she snuck off to wherever she said she was going. James’ head was spinning from the development in the situation and he couldn’t even remember where she was off too. She could have said she was off to fight ginger children in Paraguay and he still would have said “Okay.” He rung Jeremy, hoping he was at the flat.  
“‘What?” Jeremy answered the phone, sounding somewhat annoyed.  
“Hey, it’s May. Just calling to say, don’t wait up. I should definitely be back in the morning. All is fine. Gotta go!” James said, hanging up the phone. He soon saw Sarah descending the stairs, nearly running.  
“Off the phone?” she asked, walking toward him.  
“Uh, yeah, just wanted to ring the flatmate.”  
“How sweet,” she said, motioning to a chair. He sat down. “Would you like a drink?” She asked, sitting in a chair next to him.  
“Um, no, I’m fine.”  
“Okay. Something to eat?”  
“No, I’m fine.” he said, his mind still racing.  
“Ummm, right. Listen, James, I’m really not familiar with the protocol for… This.. So..”she said, and James smiled.  
“Me neither.” She chuckled and exhaled.  
“Okay, good. So, I’ll just come out and say, I’ve only had two sexual partners, and that was after we were in a very committed relationship. My record is clean. Okay, your turn.”  
“One. And we too were in a committed relationship,” James said, shifting awkward in his seat.  
“That’s good,” she said. He responded by enclosing hers with his and lightly pulling her to where he was seated, trying to appear suave and naturally at ease when in a sexy moment. After a moment of uncomfortable closed-mouth kissing, she moved herself to straddle him in the soft chair, pulling her black skirt up slightly to allow access. Lightly, she then put one hand on his jaw bone and one in his shoulder-length brown hair and drew him into another kiss. His arms wrapped around her thin waist and pulled her closer. Slowly, he opened his mouth and traced her lips with his tongue and she soon caught the hint and opened her mouth. His hands began to roam her back and sides, and she deepened the kiss. Once they stopped to take a breath, she chuckled slightly and removed her glasses, putting them on a small table next to the chair. Before she completely turned back to him, he let his mouth roam her neck, his tongue peeking out to touch certain areas of her skin. She moaned, returned both hands to his hair, and ground her hips into his, earning a small moan to escape James’ lips. He moved down to her collarbone, kissing his way down as far as he could go to her breast. With one hand firmly on the small of her back and one one her hips,he pushed her back slightly to grant him access to her chest. His breath was hot on her shirt, and it left a small wet spot where he sucked on fabric. She gasped and moved harder against his lap. He took his time to take off her shirt, and then, finally, her bra. Not yet giving her the satisfaction, he smiled at her and kissed her again. He shifted her angle again so he was once again sitting erect on him. He let his fingers lightly trail up her thighs.  
“Bedroom,” she said simply and breathlessly, getting up from his lap and grabbing his hand. She led him upstairs and made short work of his shirt. He embraced her, wrapping his arms around her short frame, kissing her deeply. Her nails dug lightly into his skin and eventually ran down the plane of his back. He replaced his hands to her firm ass, pushing her into him, rubbing his quickly inflating erection into her lower stomach. Taking off her skirt, he found that she was wearing a pair of black lace panties. Bringing her over to the bed, he laid her down and straddled her hips without making contact. One hand made firm contact with the bed for support, and the other one went to her right breast. The rough pad of his thumb teased her nipple. Biting her lip, she put her hand into her ash-blonde hair. His hand then moved to the other breast as his mouth replace it on the right one. Her legs wrapped around his hips, trying to make contact. Slowly, he kissed his way down her, finally making it to the region between her thighs. He looked up at the beautiful, panting creature over him and back down to the heated area in front of his face. He took his thumb and touched her ever so lightly, earning a small gasp from the voice above him. He let his finger trail right below her clit, avoiding it purposefully, down, and then back up. He slightly parted her lips through the black fabric. Her scent was heavy in the air, and he could not help but grab his clothed, aching erection. He stuck his hand into the tight constraint of his jeans and gave his penis a few gropes. He lowered his mouth to her and repeated the same motion his finger had made previously with his tongue, teasing her. She was shaking and her hand had flown to her mouth. He let his tongue go the length of her slit a few times, each time getting closer and closer to her clit. Right before he touched it he stopped and looked at her. She cried out, wanting nothing more than that sweet contact. He smiled, removed her pants, and let out a hot, heavy breath onto her extremely sensitive skin. Slowly, he licked the area she was so waiting for. She cried out as he trailed his tongue downward and back to her clit. His index finger soon joined his tongue and lips in the process of pleasuring her, entering her at an excruciatingly slow pace. Her back arched and she whimpered, pushing her hips down against him. After another finger was added and she was well prepared, he escaped the confines of his jeans and pants, slipped on a condom and lining himself up with her entrance. He, awkwardly, had a bit of trouble entering her at first. Once he finally managed, he slammed home, causing her to scream loudly.  
“Are... Are you alright?” He asked, panting. Her eyes were screwed shut and she was drawing quick, ragged breaths. She nodded, James laid motionless, letting her recover. After a small nod of consent, he then withdrew and entered her fully again. She yelped, but this one sounded less like pain. The pace was slow and steady. “Oh God,” James said, the hot, tight pleasure flooding him. With each thrust growing harder and more erratic, Sarah let out a small scream. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna come,” James said about a minute in.  
“Come, James.. Oh! God!” She shouted, gripping him tightly and she rode out her own orgasm. He followed quickly. After the breathing had settled down and James had managed to get out of her cuddle grip, he turned on his side and faced the wall.  
“I’m... I’m sorry I didn’t last too long. It’s uhh. It’s been a while.” “No, no, it’s fine,” She said a finger tracing down his back. “How about we get some sleep? Would you like to borrow a robe to sleep in?”  
“Hell no,” James thought to himself. He answered simply, “Sure. Thank you.” Well, at least he didn’t have to sleep naked. As he began to drift off into the Land of Nod, he began to contemplate a strange feeling he was experiencing. The whole situation felt strange to him in some way; like it was not natural. “Maybe it’s because she’s practically a stranger,” James thought to himself. He laughed to himself and thought, "Only you would still consider her a stranger." He decided this was definitely the reason and to not lose any sleep over something so insignificant. Of course, his brain decided to throw out one more unsettling thought. “Maybe it’s guilt.” This was his last thought before drifting off into a restless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: . Bare with me. This chapter will feature a few scenes seen through Jeremy's point of view. Once I finish the series, I'll go back and correct this chapter. This is probably roughest the one.

 

James walked up the steps to his apartment, wishing he had brought a jacket the night before. After fumbling with his keys in the cold rain, he managed to open the door and was greeted by extremely loud music. “Jeremy!” he called out. It wasn’t until the third time he yelled did the music lower and he get a response.

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked from his bedroom.

“I’m home.”

  
“Good.”

  
“I’m gonna make some tea… Would you like some?” James asked, grabbing the kettle. There was a hesitation in the answer.

  
“No,” Jeremy answered simply, returning the music to its initial volume. James sighed and prepared a cup of tea, soon to be followed by toast and marmite. It wasn’t long after that he found himself casually pacing. He stopped, realising how stupid he was acting, and sat uncomfortably on the floor near the small table. He sipped his tea. “Should I call her?” he asked himself for the fourth time in under five minutes. He looked to the phone. “Jeremy!”

  
“What?” His friend asked from the other room.

  
“May I come in?”

  
“Yeah, mate. Come in.” James walked through the door and found his friend still sitting on his bed in his pyjamas. Pathetic.

  
“What are ya listening too?”

  
“Eric Clapton. ‘Thorn Tree in the Garden’. Can I help you?”

  
“Look, you know Sarah, yeah?” James asked, pulling a chair by the bed.

  
“Yes, May, I do. I know OF her. Never actually met her,” he trailed off.

  
“Right. Should I call? Is it too soon to call her?” Jeremy thought about this as he lit a cigarette retrieved from his night stand. James happily accepted when offered one.

  
“No. Don’t call,” he finally responded.

  
“No?” James repeated, slightly surprised. “Uh, why not?”

  
“You asked for my advice and I answered,” Clarkson responded after a long drag on the cigarette.

  
“Yeah, I know. But what’s the reasoning?”

  
“Need a reason? You’re not desperate.”

  
“Sorta am, mate. I really like this girl.”

  
“How would you know? You’ve only just met her.”

  
“I’ve known her for a few months, Clarkson.” James was starting to get mildly annoyed with Jeremy. “This is coming from a bloke who would bed a girl after one night of knowing her.”

  
“I haven’t done since we moved here! And don’t ask for my opinion if you’re going to get touchy about it. I say don’t call. Let her call. If she’s serious, she will.” James sat quietly for a moment and wondered what he had said to touch Jeremy’s nerve as he had appeared to have done.

  
“Right,” May said, slapping both knees and then standing. “I’m going to go do some revising. I might call later. Thanks.”

  
“Anytime,” Jeremy said, analysing his cigarette carton as if it were an asteroid fallen from space.

James decided to call and set up a date for the Friday next. It, as the last one, had gone wonderfully; he could possibly see this friendship going somewhere. Meanwhile, back at the flat, Jeremy was acting strange compared to his recent behaviour. James had noticed that Clarkson was slightly more reserved than he had been in ages. Rarely did he attempt to make unnecessary conversation with James. He treated James almost as he would a person he had just met, which was odd, considering their five-year friendship. On top of that, the music had gone back to eardrum-popping volumes. Twice had neighbours marched over to complain. If he wasn’t trying with all of his might to annoy the hell out of James, he would be out with his new writer friends. He rarely invited James anymore. It had been almost a month since Jeremy had changed, and December was just around the corner. Just next week, actually. He could not wrap his head around what he had done to make Jeremy this… Cold… Soon, the fact that Jeremy was being such a sulking sod annoyed James. James, not being one for confrontation, decided to just let the whole thing pass over.Emotions did not fall under his department. Plus, James thought, this could just be homesickness. Maybe Jeremy was just depressed. The holidays were close, maybe he was just missing his parents. Eventually, that is what he decided with his friend.

  
“Clarkson!” James yelled over the music from outside Jeremy’s bedroom. He yelled again, only to get a crack in the door, and what appeared to be an oversized troll-doll poked his head out.

  
“Yes?”

  
“Going out. Want me to pick up take-out on my way in?”

  
“Oh, you’re actually planning on coming home tonight?”

  
“Uh, yeah, dad, I was planning on it. Is that okay?”

  
“Whatever.”

  
“Do you want something or not?” Jeremy shrugged and retreated into his bedroom. “Fuck it,” James said, grabbing his jacket and leaving.

The local was nice that night; the conversation was lively. That might have just been James’s take on things, considering he was in a fantastic mood. Then again, he rarely wasn’t when in Sarah’s company. The two were starting to lull into what was becoming a comfortable, routine relationship. James took a sip of his second pint and decided to take a chance.

  
“Hey, Sarah?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Listen,” he said observing the top of his pint and running his finger around the rim. He forced himself to put both hands on the table and make eye contact. “Would you fancy… Do you…” He inhaled and exhaled. “Do you like ACDC?” The disappointment in himself came crashing like a ton of bricks. Sarah seemed to be caught off guard.

  
“They're okay, I guess. Never really gave them much thought, actually. I prefer classical.”

  
“Right, right.” He took a deep breath in. “Hey, Sarah?”

  
“Yes, James?”

  
“How would you fancy being my proper… Girlfriend?” She laughed and his heart sank. He could feel his face burning.

  
“You are so awkward. BUT, you are absolutely precious. Of course. I’d like to be your proper girlfriend very much.”

  
“Good… Good.” James said, taking a large sip of beer to hide the expression of both elation and relief. “So, you really don’t have an opinion on ACDC? I’ll change that. You’re gonna have to come over sometime to listen to them. Just got a new album.”

  
“I’d love too! I’ve never been to your apartment, ya know. I’m excited to see it.”

  
“It’s small but nice. The atmosphere is…” James took a sip. “Friendly.”

  
“Great! Can’t wait!”

 

“Clarkson! I’m back! Brought you some curry!”

  
“Chicken?!” Jeremy called from his room.

  
“Yeah.” The music stopped and Jeremy came into the sitting room. James noted Clarkson’s hair nearly covering his face.

  
“Thanks, May. Appreciate it.”

  
“Right,” James said, taking his coat off and putting it on the hanger near the door. “How was your evening?”

  
“Same as usual. Got a bit of writing done.”

  
“That’s good,” James said, rubbing his thighs and fighting for possible topics of conversation.

  
“Yeah, I guess.” A few moments of silence had passed. Jeremy, obviously out of social pressure and no actual concern, finally asked, “Yours?”

  
“It was nice,” James said smiling. “Sarah and I are now officially a couple.” Jeremy froze for a millisecond and then reanimated. May wondered for a moment if it had actually happened. Finally, Clarkson raised an eyebrow.

  
“Really? That’s good.”

  
“Yeah, thanks.”

  
“Yep,” Jeremy said, taking a few more bites and then standing. He walked to the cupboard, grabbed a container and scooped the rest of the curry inside. “I’ll just have this tomorrow. Thanks again. Talk to you later.”

  
“Wait a second,” James said, causing his afro-headed friend to turn around. The reward for his courage earlier with Sarah, the alcohol, and his mounting frustration with Jeremy had all combined into temporary bravery that James was nearly certain he would regret later. “Clarkson, what’s your problem?”

  
“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” Jeremy said, a look of utter disinterest covering his face. This look further annoyed James.

  
“Why have you been acting like such a… Well, such a dick lately? What have I done?” For a moment, Jeremy looked surprised, and then his face returned to disinterest.

  
“Fuck off, May,” he said, turning to his room.

  
“What have I done?” James said, slightly raising his voice: something her rarely did.

  
“Nothing. Now, stop being a tosser and get out of my face.”

  
“Well I could have sworn that I fucked your mum the way you’ve been treating me,” James said, lowering his voice to its natural level. He walked closer to Jeremy.

  
“Keep it up, you’re working on my last nerve.”

“Well, obviously you’re angry with me! You’ve been moping about the apartment for nearly a month!” Jeremy exasperatedly ran his fingers through his hair.

  
“Stop being such a bitch, May. You’re not my girlfriend, don’t worry about how I feel about you.”

  
“I don’t give a flying toss how you feel about me, actually. But I WOULD like for you to treat me like a bloody person.”

  
“Fine,” Jeremy said, opening his door. James raised his hand and slammed it shut, taking Jeremy completely by surprise. He had seen James angry, but he normally kept his temper at bay. He definitely seemed to be struggling with this at the moment.

“You are trying me, Clarkson. You really are.” James took a deep breath and nearly laughed at the look on Jeremy’s face. “Cut the shit or I’m moving in with Sarah.”

  
“What?!” Jeremy shouted. At least he’s showing emotion, James thought. “You’ve only known her for a few months!! You’re slower than my nan! There is no way you would!”

  
“Try me.”

  
“This is fucking ridiculous! I’ve known you for ages compared to her!”

  
“Yeah, it’s funny considering that she treats me more like a human being than you do,” James bit out. He saw something close to pain cover Jeremy’s face. He knew that in Clarkson’s mind, he was the victim. He genuinely believed he had done nothing wrong. “Now, I’m going take a shower. Keep the bloody music down.” He left Jeremy standing by the door with his mouth hanging open like a guppy. Hopefully, his words had hit home with his “mate”.

The fight, having occurred on Friday night, was followed by a few days of silence. However, James had noticed the mood had shifted. He knew Jeremy well enough to conclude that James had genuinely hurt his feelings.This was confirmed when Clarkson had tucked himself away for a few days to lick his wounds. It wasn’t until Wednesday that Jeremy decided to break the silence. He walked into the sitting room to find James revising for a massive exam that had been right around the corner. He didn’t look up from his book.

  
“May, fancy a pint tomorrow? I’ll buy.”

  
“Can’t,” James said, still looking at his book. “Date with Sarah.” He knew that stuck Jeremy. Maybe harder than he had planned, judging from the silence. “But I’ll be free Saturday night,” James said, finally looking up. A small smile flashed on Jeremy’s face. “But only if you’re buying. You owe me.”

  
“I owe you the absolute square root of jack shit,” Jeremy said, smiling. James returned the light smile.

  
“Yeah, you do. I would say at least a pint for each week you’ve been a dick.”

  
“About that… I’m, uh. Ya know,” he said, waving his hand to signal what he was trying to say.

  
“I know. But why were you? What was it that I did?” James asked. Jeremy’s smile looked strange to James. It switched from one of mild joy and relief to one that James could not identify.

  
“ Yeah, it’s nothing you have to worry about.”

  
“Yeah, well-“

  
“Stop digging, James,” Jeremy said, semi-seriously. James huffed a breath and looked back to his book.

  
“Worse than a bloody girl, won’t even tell me what I did wrong,” he mumbled. Jeremy chuckled and moved to the refrigerator.

  
“Want something?”

  
“Depending. What are you making?”

James couldn’t have been happier that things finally evened out between him and Jeremy. He had enough stress with school, work, and the new relationship; he didn’t need Jeremy giving him problems as well. School work was enough of a problem to keep him occupied. With the end of the first term in sight, exam after exam pushed him to the brink of madness. By December the eleventh, the end of term, he didn’t know if he had gained or lost a stone- but he was certain his weight had changed. His eating habits were atrocious, as both Jeremy and Sarah pointed out. On top of this, his smoking had increased to a pack a day, a habit Sarah was trying to nip in the bud. Jeremy was the only person in his life who didn’t give him shit for smoking; probably because Jeremy smoked just as much. After exams, he worked not only on his health habits, but the issue of Christmas as well. He had come to terms with the fact that he was absolutely rubbish at giving gifts. And, to add to the stress, he had not a bastard clue what the protocol would be for his relationship with Sarah or Jeremy. What to give a new girlfriend? Or even worse, a best mate/flatmate? After hours of shopping around in local shops, he decided to get Sarah three bags of her favourite coffee. Jeremy was harder to shop for. Eventually, he settled on VHS tapes of “The Guns Of Navarone” and “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”. He had celebrated Christmas with Sarah at her apartment on December twentieth, and with Jeremy on the twenty-second: the day before he went home for Christmas. He and Sarah decided to celebrate Christmas at hers. The two of them had a nice, cozy evening in. They exchanged gifts(she had given him a jumper that was slightly too big), drank a bottle of wine, and ended the even with(what James would describe) slightly mediocre but not bad sex. His Christmas with Jeremy had gone a completely different path. James loved his swiss army knife and bottle of rather posh wine from Jeremy. When Clarkson had opened the “Butch Cassidy” film, James thought Jeremy would have a full-out aneurysm. James could have sworn Jeremy was already on his way to the VHS player before he had even unwrapped the gift. James could have spent the whole of the holiday watching “Navarone” with Jeremy but knew his family would hear nothing of it. He found himself back at the flat for the eve of the eve of New Year’s, drinking a lager and watching “Butch Cassidy” with Jeremy.

  
“This bit- THIS BIT!” Jeremy shouted. “IT is my absolute favourite!! Did you hear what he said to her?! Did you-“

  
“Well, I bloody would have if you’d shut your gob.” Jeremy went silent. James couldn’t help but chuckle at this overgrown child. Towards the end, James decided to glance at Jeremy. This made him actually laugh out loud. Jeremy had never looked so attentive in his life. He was so intensely involved in this film, James couldn’t help but laugh. This earned a slight glance and eyebrow raise from Jeremy, but that was all. His attention went straight back to the film. There was no more conversation until the movie had ended.

  
“What are your plans for tomorrow night?” Jeremy asked, sipping his rosé.

  
“Spending it with Sarah. You?”

  
“Ah. I’m going to a party Paul is throwing. The one from the office. Probably going to end with me and a few guys snorting cocaine off of pretty ladies. Really crazy.”

  
“Sounds fun,” James said, ignoring his mate’s pathetic attempt at a joke. “Who’s hosting?”

  
“Have you gone deaf? I said,” he paused and cleared his throat. “PAUL.”

  
“Ahhhh. Right. Well, have fun at PAUL’s party. I’m off to sleep. Don’t want to see your face any more than I have to,” James said, walking away. “G’night.”

  
“James!” Jeremy called lowly. His friend turned round to face him.

  
“Yeah, mate?” There was a pause.

  
“Uh… You don’t expect me to do the dishes, do you? You know I’m not domestic.”

  
“Nah, I’ll do them in the morning. That it?” Another pause.

  
“Yeah. G’night, you old bastard.”

 

“Soooo,” Sarah drawled. “When are you going to let me into the flat? A change of scenery would be nice. Plus, you promised.”

  
“Right,” James hesitated, shifting on the couch. It wasn’t like he had much to shift, she was practically sitting on top of him. He wondered if this was the right moment to mention that she was making him incredibly uncomfortable. Deciding against it, he searched for a good reason not to bring her to the flat. “It’s really not much you are missing. Promise. It’s always untidy, no matter what attempts I make at keeping it clean. My flatmate is a right swine of a man. He refuses to pick up after himself. Wouldn’t want you to get lost in the clutter, would we?” He said with a small smile, trying to shift away ever so slightly.

  
“I wouldn’t mind, James. I won’t judge you for your lack of tidiness; I have many more important things to judge you for!”

  
“Am I off to a good start?” James asked, looking up at her and smiling.

  
“Hardly,” she answered, smiling back and giving him a small kiss. A simple peck turned into a few quick kisses and then a slow, deep one. A few minutes into their snog session and James glanced at his watch, finally noticing the time.

  
“Damn! We’ve just passed midnight! Happy New Year, darling.”

  
“Yes, happy New Year. Now, come back here,” she said slowly, pulling his face to hers. He pulled away slowly and smiled sheepishly.

  
“Listen, Sarah, not to be a downer or anythin’, but do you think we could… Slow down? I mean, I like the way things are, don’t get me wrong. It’s just going a little fast, yeah?” Sarah seemed to contemplate his words for a moment.

  
“Sure, but it isn’t, is it? I mean, how do you figure?” She asked, drawing back.

  
“Well… I don’t know, I just feel like we are moving a bit quick. I mean, we’ve only been dating, what, a month?”

  
“But we’ve known each other since September.” This argument made James chuckle.

  
“Yeah, but Sarah. I’m not really one to jump into things this… This quickly… Let’s focus more on a foundation before we jump into full domestic?”

  
“Jesus, James, I’m not asking you to move in,” she said, scooting further away. “We were just kissing, yeah? Calm down.”

  
“No, no, I’m calm. Look, why don’t we watch some telly? Come over here,” he said, pulling her towards him. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for his request, hence the cuddling.

  
“Fine,” she said, reaching remote control. “Are you sleeping here?”

  
“No, wasn't planning on it.”

  
“All right,” she mumbled. James wondered where the sudden attitude came from. He chalked it up to sexual frustration and then invested himself into the movie she picked.

 

 

“Sarah, you don’t understand. My parents are very keen to have my whole family around for religious holidays.”

  
“But MY parents really want to meet you! What better time than Easter?” she asked, taking his cup to the dishes in her sink. “I mean, it’s not a proper holiday, not really.”

She began to run the water and turn around. “It’s not as important as Christmas! It’s just… There. That’s what the holiday is for! A little break in between long periods without holidays. No one actually celebrates it.”

  
“Oh, so that’s what it’s for! I could have sworn it was for the resurrection of Christ! Silly me. Let me phone my parents and tell them.”

  
“James, be serious,” she said, turning to do the dishes. He stretched his arms out on the table and let out a long yawn.

“Sorry, Sarah. There’s no way I’m telling my parents I’m not spending Easter with them.”

  
“Well, let me come with you!” she suggested. _OH SHIT!_ James thought. _ABORT, ABORT. DON’T PANIC. DON’T PANIC_.

  
“I don’t know… I’m sure your parents would want to see you.”

  
“Well, yeah, but they can get over it. They’re not that far away! Plus a car trip with you could be fun!” _WE ARE GOING DOWN, CAP'N MANNERING!! DON’T PANIC!_ James heard the little Jones in his head shout. He thought quickly for a way out.

  
“I don’t know, Sarah… I don’t know if I’m quite comfortable with them meeting you yet, to be perfectly honest,” James said quietly. She turned around to face him.

  
“And why not? I’d say we’re serious enough.” _We’ve only been dating five bloody months. Could you stop rushing things? That would be lovely,_ James wished he could say.

  
“Yeah, but-“

  
“Embarrassed?”

  
“Well, no-“

  
“Then what’s the holdup?”

  
“I just want more time. How about we save the meeting of the parents for after the first anniversary, yeah? I haven’t ever introduced a girl to my family, and I really want to be sure it’s very serious before I do so.”

  
“I mean, I would say we are very serious, but fine,” she sighed. “Sure, James, whatever you want,” she said, returning to the dishes. He stood up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her small waist.

  
“Hey,” he started, swaying them from side to side. “You know what I want?”

  
“What?”

  
“How about you upstairs?”

  
“Trying to get me in a good mood, arsehole?” she said, turning in his arms. “I’ll go upstairs and get undressed… While you finish the dishes. See you in a bit,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. He smiled, even as he took on the duty of washing the pile. _Really dodged a bullet there._

 

“I said, ‘You want some of this, you’re gonna have to come and get it.’ And, my God, DID SHE! May, she was riding me like a derby jockey!”

  
“Oh God, Jezza!” James said, rubbing his eyes and trying to erase the horrible and grotesque image that flashed before him. “I don’t want to hear this!”

  
“It was a religious experience. I didn’t think the sofa could handle any more abuse. And the TITS ON THIS GIRL! Blimey, you would have fallen in love!”

  
“I don’t want to hear about it, Clarkson!” James repeated himself. James walked to the fridge and grabbed himself a lager. He offered one to Jeremy, who declined with a simple head shake. “Anyway, I’m sure Sharon doesn’t want you to hear about our sexual exploits, either,” James said. Jeremy looked at him, genuine confusion covering his face.

  
“Sharon?”

  
“Isn’t that who you were talking about? I thought you two had decided to go steady?”

  
“Ohhh, no, we broke off  Wednesday. No, this is Carla.”

  
“Carla?”

  
“Yeah. Met her at the pub last night.”

  
“Wait,” James commanded, trying to process the information. “You were in last night. When did all of this happen?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Where did you say you did this?” Jeremy, keeping the same expression on his face, looked down at where James was sitting and then back to his eyes. “Oh GOD IN HIS HEAVEN!”

James shouted in disgust, jumping up from where he was sitting. “What the hell would you’ve done if I’d have come out?!”

  
“Blushed and continued.

  
“You absolute beast of a man! Clarkson, how could you have done something that… that… Sickening?”

  
“Wasn’t for us, mate. Promise you, next time I have a ‘special visitor’, I’ll let you know.”

  
“Thanks, just clean the sofa and please don’t do the deed anywhere I might walk in, yeah?” James said, sitting in the armchair beside the sofa. Jeremy gave him the same look as he did when James sat on the sofa, causing James to shoot up and Jeremy to laugh. “You monster!”

  
“That’s what Carla was saying last night,” Jeremy chuckled. James looked at him with pure horror. Jeremy bit his lip, raised his arms, and made a very suggestive movement.

  
“I’m going in my room,” James said, retreating. Jeremy’s laughter followed him all the way through his door.

  
It wasn’t a week later that James had come to regret the promise of notifications of special visitors. He was on the third chapter of Free Fall by William Golding when he heard a questionable noise. He stopped in the middle of the sentence and looked to the door, eyebrows furrowed. He waited and the noise repeated itself moments later. He marked the page and stood, walking to his door. Upon opening it, he heard something he immediately wished he could have erased from his mind: the squeaking of bed springs in a rhythmic manner. This was followed by a loud moan from a man he could only assume to be Clarkson. His initial reaction was to gag, but he kept it to himself. He settled with shutting himself in his bedroom, only to realise they were now loud enough to hear through the doors. Man in heaven, they must be really going at it, James thought. “Shit,” he said, realising something even more disturbing. There was a small stirring coming from within the confines of his trousers; confines that seemed to be growing tighter and tighter rapidly. _Oh, God. What sort of pervert am I?_ He asked himself, returning to his seat on the bed. A particularly loud moan from Clarkson reached his ears and sent a chill down his spine. Frighteningly, it went straight to a place James knew it shouldn’t go. _Maybe it’s a sound thing. Most people get off on visual._ _Maybe I’m just an audio sort of bloke?_ He didn’t pay it much more thought, being the growing problem in his jeans had recaptured his attention. _Would it be bad if I just…?_ He began asking as he unzipped his trousers. _No one would have to know…_ _I don’t even have to think about it if I don’t want to. And I don’t, so I won’t._ He thought, reaching for the lotion in his nightstand. _I’ll just give it a good rub, get the poison out. It’s been a while, anyway._ After squirting a decent handful of lotion into his palm, he had himself a good wank to the sound of his best mate fucking a girl in the room next door. After that, he hadn’t bothered(or tried to avoid, rather) thinking of his actions. He justified it by telling himself he didn’t want to waste time analysing every single thing he did. Even after trying to banish the thoughts, he couldn’t help the fleeting fear that it might mean something much deeper than he’d care to admit. He decided to return to his book than think about the possibilities.

 

James looked at the clock on the nightstand on Sarah’s side of the bed. Fuck. Only three. He rolled over and pulled the sheets tighter over his naked body. He wasn’t comfortable being completely exposed, even if she was sleeping. He never really did sleep well when he spent the night. He assumed this was because he was a guest in her house. He much preferred the comfort of home. He looked towards her and noticed there was just enough light coming in to see her outline. He saw the way her light hair pooled onto the bed between her shoulder blades. His eyes moved further down her back to her waist, where the blankets began to cover her. He smiled, thinking of how adorable she was when sleeping. At least she wasn’t insisting on furthering the relationship. He loved the way she hugged the pillow tightly when she slept. He wouldn’t tell her that, of course. No need to drop the “L bomb” just yet. Might give her other ideas. He turned over and began to think. _Do I love her?_ He contemplated this for a moment and, fearfully, he admitted to himself, _Damn. I think I do_. _Well, going to keep that under wraps. Don’t need to make her lose it._ _And who’s to say she loves you back, you numpty?_ James asked himself. _I think I’ll leave this alone for a while. No need to get serious_. He paused a moment before thinking, _Well, I’d say that train has long set off, wouldn’t you?_ He decided to block out any more of these dangerous thoughts with some mind-numbing late night telly. He put on his pair of pants that had been discarded earlier that evening. He padded his way to the sitting room. It wasn’t an hour later that he was joined by a very tired looking Sarah. She was wearing his favourite of her nightgowns, and questioned quietly, “Hey, love, why’d you get up?” He couldn’t help but smile.

  
“Couldn’t sleep. Why, did I wake you?” he asked, knowing completely well that he had not.

  
“No, no, I turned around and you weren’t there,” she said joining him on the couch. “Thought you’d left early again.” She curled up into a ball and laid her head on his lap. He let his hand fall on her arm, his fingers lightly grazing her skin. She sighed contently and whispered something he couldn’t quite make out.

  
“Pardon?”

  
“Said ‘I love you,’” she repeated. _OH FUCK,_ James panicked. _I’ve only bloody admitted it to myself, I’m not ready to say it OUT LOUD… Should I?_

  
“I… I love you too, Sarah,” he said hesitantly. He immediately regretted that decision and cursed his judgment. _Maybe it’ll get comfortable the more I say it…_

 

James worked through the Summer term, finishing it with ace marks. The autumn of his second year, however, was slightly more difficult. The stress of uni and his job taking up more and more weekends made time fly faster. One day, he decided to check his calendar and was shocked to find the year nearly over. He found his relationship with Sarah growing more and more comfortable as time was passing. Before he knew it, their first anniversary came and passed. It was spent,of course, the same way they celebrated every special occasion: home cooked meal, nice wine, quick sex, sleep. He had even noticed that a few of his things had taken permanent residence at her flat. His favourite bathrobe had suddenly become their favourite bathrobe. This happened with two or three of his jumpers and few pairs of socks as well. He had a pair of pyjamas in her drawer. James had not actually noticed just how much he had started to migrate towards hers until Jeremy pointed it out one evening in the pub.

  
“I haven’t got many things at hers, though,” James said. Jeremy sipped his rosé and nodded.

  
“Ya have.”

  
“How would you know? Stalking me, Clarkson?”

  
“No, I’m not blind is all,” Jeremy said, ordering another drink for the both of them after. His friend’s words began to sink in.

  
“Good God. I tell her I want to keep things at a moderate pace, yeah? That’s not so hard.”

  
“It isn’t like she’s sneaking all of your things to her place, mate. You’re bringing them.”

  
“It’s nice to be prepared!” James stated.

  
“Well, yes. But there’s prepared and there’s living there. You sleep there, what? At least once a week. Going a bit fast, wouldn’tcha say?” James laughed at his friend's accusation.

  
“This coming from the king of fuck and chuck.”

  
“I’m just saying. Things are getting PRETTY serious. What if she wants to settle down and have a family? Ya know, all that rubbish.”

  
“Jeremy, we haven’t made a year yet!”

  
“I dunno, May,” Jeremy said, raising his eyebrows and gulping the new glass of wine before him. “Seems like she’s gonna expect more of a commitment soon at the rate you two are going.” James pondered this and tried to hide all traces of panic from his face. He hoped to hell and back that Jeremy was just trying to antagonise him. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and leaned back.

  
“Well, do you think you’d like to meet her?” James asked. Jeremy reacted as if James had offered to take his knob out, slap it on the table, and sing a lullaby.

  
“What? Why would I do that?”

  
“You’re making several strong assumptions of someone you’ve never met. And it’s HAS been a year and a few weeks. So far, you’ve managed to steer clear of her.”

  
“Well, you’ve never brought her to the apartment,” Jeremy said in his defense.

  
“When I offer, you say it’s a bad time.” Jeremy didn’t respond to this. “You don’t want to meet her, do you?”

  
“Now I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth!” Jeremy yelled indignantly.

  
“Fine, what about tomorrow?” James suggested. To this, Jeremy mumbled into his wine glass. “What was that, you infantile pillock?” James asked louder.

  
“Tomorrow. Sounds. Fine,” Clarkson said, annunciating each word loudly and clearly.

  
“Great. Dinner at the apartment. You cook.”

  
“Are you completely positive the two of you are serious?” Jeremy asked. James couldn’t quite place the emotion that his mate seemed to be trying to cover.

  
“I believe so, Jezza. I’m not gonna say we’re serious until… Well, I’ll say once we’ve been going a solid three years. That’s when I will make it officially ‘serious’.”

  
“Christ,” Jeremy said, polishing off his drink. “Can we go home now? I feel like watching a good movie.”

  
“Who’s turn?” James asked, paying the tab.

  
“Yours. _Battle of Britain_?”

  
“You know me so well, it’s scary,” James said slightly sarcastically.

  
“Well, I live with you. And Christ KNOWS you are BY NO MEANS a creature of habit!” Jeremy all but shouted. James smiled. _What an utter pillock._

 

 

“Nervous?” Sarah asked, waiting for James to finally get the keys in the door.

  
“No. why would I be nervous?”

  
“I don’t know, James. You’ve waited this long to introduce us. Also, you are struggling to get the keys in the door.” James just repeated that he wasn’t nervous, more to convince himself than her. After he finally managed to open the door, they were both greeted with incredibly loud music. James could work out the band instantly, it being Jeremy’s favourite. Doobie Brothers. It took a second before James could work out the song, but it wasn’t long before the words “Evil woman! Evil woman,” came crashing through the door. James looked at Sarah, smiled sheepishly, and ran to his flatmate’s door, banging on it. The music shut off and Jeremy submerged, giving his best innocent and charming smile.

  
“Hello, you must be Sarah,” he said, pushing past James.

  
“Uh, yeah, that’s me!” she said sweetly, extending her hand. Jeremy completely ignored it and continued on towards the sofa. James walked quickly into the area.

  
“Jeremy Clarkson, this is Sarah Frater. Sarah, Jeremy.” Following this was a moment of silence. James was nearly certain that one more unit of tension might actually kill him. He searched for topics. “What did you cook for us, Jeremy?” Jeremy looked to his friend, a look of faux innocence and confusion masking his face.

  
“Me? I didn’t know I was cooking. You didn’t tell me.”

  
“Sorry, I did,” James said, slight irritation evident in his voice.

  
“No, I can promise you that you most certainly did not.” Silence fell.

  
“Pub?” Sarah asked finally.

  
“Well, I bloody guess so,” James responded quietly. It wasn’t that Jeremy forgot to prepare the meal that bothered James, as such. It was the fact that he knew Jeremy HADN’T forgotten. James predicted, with great accuracy, that the rest of the evening would go much the same way as the train wreck of an introduction had. Whenever Jeremy actually decided to speak, it was either single word answers or opinions and statements that could easily be considered mildly insulting. Between Sarah and Jeremy, James was positive he would die by the end of the night. He wished he hadn’t volunteered to be designated driver. If the evening was going to be a complete balls-up, he wanted to be completely clattered for it.

  
After they dropped her off at the apartment, James turned to the passenger seat that Jeremy had refused to let her sit in.

  
“Now why the hell did you act like that?” James asked quietly. Jeremy once again covered his face with the look of smug innocence. James wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

  
“No idea what you’re talking about, mate. Thought she was absolutely charming!” James breathed slowly and put the car into drive.

  
“You are in fine form today, Clarkson, it must be said.”

  
“James, I don’t know-“

  
“You know full bloody well what I’m talking about!” James said angrily. “Fuck it. Just… Just keep quiet, yeah? Leave me alone for the rest of the night.”

  
“I thought it went well…”

  
“Well, it didn’t, did it?! You ruined it, as you do everything, you oaf. Now shut up and leave me be.” The rest of the car ride was quiet, as was the flat for the next few days. The siege of silence was ended when Jeremy decided to bring home James’s favourite wine. After that, Jeremy was again making attempts to keep peace with James. James had decided it would be best from then on to keep his best friend away from his girlfriend. May was keeping busy, and, as it had earlier in the year, time continued to fly. Everyone had fallen into a comfortable routine. It was not until September of James’s third year that everything fell to hell. Jeremy left his room to grab a lager from the fridge and found James on the sofa. He had appeared to have been there for awhile, considering there were four lager tins on the table. Curiosity overcame him.

  
“Hey, what are you doing here, man?”

  
“Oh, hi, Jeremy,” James responded, not looking up from the television. Clarkson was taken aback by James’s use of his first name.

  
“Aren’t you supposed to be spending the night at Sarah’s?”

  
“Well, yeah. Should be,” James said simply.

  
“You look like shit.”

  
“Thank you.”

  
“Do you want to… I dunno… Talk about it?” Jeremy asked, slightly worried.

  
“Not really, no.”

  
“Okay, well… You know where I am,” Jeremy offered. He opened the fridge and found they were completely out of alcohol- a very rare occurrence. “And I will be at the shop. Want anything?”

  
“Whiskey.”

  
“Since when do you drink whiskey?” Jeremy asked, slipping on his shoes and coat.

  
“I would like some now, please. Thank you.” James said politely, opening the last of the tins.

  
“Alright, mate. I’ll be back soon.”

  
“Thank you,” James repeated.

  
Jeremy took his time at the shop, not particularly wanting to crowd James. He wondered what could have happened to make James so upset. Well, he knew, but he wasn’t wanting to run before the pistol was shot. Upon returning, Jeremy found James sleeping on the sofa. He noticed May’s face seemed a slight shade of red, his eyes puffy. Jeremy did not need to be a psychic to know James had a good cry while he was away. His thin frame was curled up into as much of a foetal position as the sofa would allow. Clarkson could not help but move his friend’s dark brown curls out of his face. Deciding it would be best to leave him alone, he left the bottle of spirits on the small table next to the sofa. After replacing the lager in the fridge, he went off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

  
AN: Terribly sorry I did not update last week; my computer was in the shop.Now, I do not own any of the people, obviously. I know Paul Merton and Ian Hislop did not work with Jeremy. I would like to thank my friends Alix and Mallori for helping me out of my writer’s block. WARNING: Some terms and expression may be found offensive. I hope you all enjoy!

 

 

       Jeremy’s eyes opened slowly and grudgingly. After a nice, healthy yawn, he checked his watch and was shocked to see the time. 8:30. Lately, he had been waking up around six or so. This was from the stress of work; he knew that. As it turned out, working was much more difficult than he expected. After a cough, he rolled his half-naked body out of bed and padded over to the closet. James hated when Jeremy walked around the house shirtless. He decided to slip on his favourite Pink Floyd t. He was fully expecting to see James making a cup of tea or eating breakfast, maybe even sleeping off the hangover he surely had. When he was greeted by the sight of the beer tins covering the table, no whiskey, and an empty sofa, Jeremy furrowed his brow and walked over to the fridge. James had, at some point in the night, taken the whiskey and another can of lager. Jeremy pressed his lips together tightly and walked to his friend’s bedroom door.  
       “James?” Jeremy asked, lightly knocking. No response. “Mate, you awake?” After another silence, Jeremy decided to try to open the door, but to no avail. Upon realising it was locked, he ran a hand over the doorframe and caught the key. Having solved the issue of the locked door, Jeremy was welcomed with a pathetic sight. James lay sleeping, red-faced, shirt off, and snoring like a freight train. The bottle of whiskey sat on the nightstand, about one-third of it gone. Deciding he would be a nice friend, Jeremy grabbed the bottle and lightly closed the door. Being as James did not have tutorials on Fridays, he decided he would let May sleep it off. After sticking the whiskey in the fridge, he made himself a cup of coffee, thinking about what could have made James so upset. Well, he was pretty sure he knew, but he would rather not count his chickens before they hatched. It wasn’t an hour later he was joined by an exhausted, hungover looking James.  
       “How are ya, mate?” Jeremy asked. May’s eyes were half screwed closed, the light coming through the open blinds burning them.  
       “Could you shut the bloody blinds? Bright as hell in here.”  
       “Very good, sir. Anything else, sir?” Jeremy said, doing as he was told.  
       “Shut up, Clarkson.”  
       “Cross, are we? Close your eyes, I’m gonna turn on the light. Want a cup of tea?”  
       “Yes, sure, thank you. I’m not cross, I just have an unholy hangover,” James said, gingerly sitting on the sofa. Jeremy set to work on the tea.  
       “As much as you drank, I’m surprised you’re not dead.”  
       “You always drink like that!” James protested lowly.  
       “Yes, well, I can handle it. You’re a wuss, choir boy.”  
       “Please. Just shut up,” James said, putting his head in his hands. “God in his heaven, the room is still spinning. Please put me out of my misery.”  
       “Another drink and I think you will be, mate. Want me to make it now?” Jeremy asked, grabbing the milk and sugar. He knew how incredibly particular his friend was when it came to how his tea was made. “Why did you drink so much, anyway?” James did not respond. Jeremy repeated the question a little louder.  
       “What?” James asked, still not taking his head out of his hands. Jeremy cleared his throat and asked loudly.  
       “WHY. DID. YOU. DRINK. SO. MUCH?” Jeremy yelled. James's head flew out of his hands and his face held an expression of great pain.  
       “Quiet down, you buffoon! I drank because I felt like drinking, yeah? Hop off my back, please.” He accepted the cup of tea Jeremy offered to him, not making eye contact. “Thanks.” Jeremy sat on the other end of the sofa with his cup of coffee. He looked at his friend carefully. “That’s no way to talk to someone who made you tea,” he said with a small smile, trying to lighten things.  
       “Well, fuck off. I just woke up and I’m exhausted. I don't understand why you have to constantly antagonize me. I’d like some peace and bloody quiet if that’s okay with you,” James snapped. Jeremy was absolutely shocked and slightly hurt by May’s outburst.  
      “Alright, no need to be a massive bellend. I’ll just turn the telly on, yeah?” He did so and sat down on the chair next to the sofa, mentally cursing James lower than the bastard he was acting.

      _Shit_ , James thought to himself. _Now he’s going to pout_. James spent the next few moments thinking about what he had said, resulting in him feeling physically horrible, mentally horrible, and now guilty.  Jeremy was looking like a sad puppy that had been hit on the snout with the paper. _Fuck_. A few moments later, James decided to take a shower and wash the smell of stale alcohol off of himself. He started to think about last night. For a moment, he felt tears prickle his eyes, but just as soon as they had come, they were gone. He let the hot water hit his face and soak his dark brown hair. _Well, James, just another thing to add to your ever growing list of_   _cock-ups. A broken relationship. Brilliant. Bloody Brilliant._  He spent time raking his brain for the first logical step for the given situation. _I_ _suppose I’ll go get my things from hers tomorrow. Maybe today, if she’s home. I can bring her things there then_. After James had gotten out of the shower, he noticed Jeremy had gone into his room. James sat on the sofa. _Hurting the only bastard that’ll put up with you. Great. Why don’t you ring mum and tell her she’s a cunt. Perfect end to a perfect day._ James spent the next few hours cleaning. Jeremy walked in for lunch but did not make an attempt to talk.  
       “What are you having?” James asked, looking up from his Airfix spitfire he had started to assemble.    
       “Dunno,” Jeremy said, digging through the cabinets. “Think I’ll just have a pot noodle.”  
       “Sounds nice,” James said. The air held a heavy awkwardness for him. After the noodles were finished, Jeremy retreated to his room. He had a nice meal of noodles with a side of brooding. James’s afternoon ended very similarly. The next day, he had the horrible chore of collecting his things from Sarah’s. She seemed tired but otherwise unaffected by the split. She HAD been the one to end it. _She could at least look a little torn up_. James thought. He got into his car and paused. Was HE upset? He had to think about it for a moment before he could come close to answering. _It may have only been nearly two years, but it was the most serious relationship I have ever had. It’s perfectly normal to feel a little loss._ Strangely, loss was not the only feeling James had. Somewhere deep, he could feel something strange. Something close to relief… He refused to think about it and moved on.

      “Clarkson!” James called as he walked through the door. “Clarkson, could you please come in here?” He looked to his friend's door and noticed there was a crack in it, revealing a mound of fluffy brown curls, light blue eyes, and a slightly large nose. _Still brooding… I see. Well,_ this’ll _do him_ , James thought. “Hey, mate, I’ve got the curry for movie night”  
      “We’re having movie night?”  
      “It’s Saturday, isn’t it?” James stated more than asked. “Who’s turn?”  
      “I wasn’t sure you’d want to do it,” Jeremy said, finally emerging from his room.  
      “Eh, don’t be such a pussy cat. Who’s turn, I said.”  
      “Not sure.”  
      “Well, I’ll pick. ‘Butch Cassidy’?” James asked, setting the plates of food in front of the tv on the table by the couch. At the mention of his favourite movie, Jeremy’s face lit up like the child he was. A smile spread across May's face. “Fantastic. Do something useful and put it in the VHS player, yeah?” James had watched this movie so many times with Clarkson, he could almost quote as many lines as Jeremy could. About halfway through, he decided to stand up and grab them both a lager from the fridge.  
      “Come back! You’ll miss the best part!” Jeremy said, motioning back to the sofa.  
      “just getting a bleeding drink, calm down. You think the entire movie is the best par-"  
      “SSSSHHHHHH!” Jeremy said excitedly. He said the words in time with the movie. “‘Look, I don’t mean to be a sore loser… But when it’s done, if I’m dead…’” Both Jeremy and James recited the last part of the quote in unison. “‘Kill him.’” James smiled.  
_Yeah, he’s big and brash. He can definitely dish it out, but he can’t take it. He really is a massive toddler!_ James thought to himself. He laughed. Taking another glance at his friend, he noticed how nice Jeremy could be when he was not saying idiotic things. _He’s not fiercely irritating when he’s actually paying attention._ James noticed that Jeremy’s expression looked very much like the one he had in a recent dream of James’s. It was an incredibly strange dream that James had convinced himself was brought upon by sexual frustration. He had never thought of his friend in THAT way. For a split moment, a part of the dream flashed back into James’s mind: Jeremy pushing him roughly against the wall, kissing him, pulling his hair and trailing his lips down James’s neck. As he had when he had the dream/nightmare, he snapped out of it before any other images stirred. He felt the same crippling guilt and disgust as he had when he woke up from it. James blessed the darkness; Jeremy couldn’t see the bright shade of scarlet James had turned. He quieted his thoughts as best he could and continued to watch the movie. Once it was over, Jeremy allowed him to turn the lights on and clean up. Clarkson stayed on the couch, feet propped up on the table.  
     “So… Sarah and I broke up,” May said, cleaning off the plates.  
     “I figured… I’m sorry, mate.”  
     “It’s fine. I’m not terribly bothered, if I’m perfectly honest.”  
     “Good. She wasn't good enough for you anyway, if you ask me,” Jeremy said. A silence fell. “Thanks for the curry, May. I’m going to hit the hay.” He stood and hesitated. James finished with the dishes and was using the rag to wipe the table where Jeremy’s feet had previously been. “Look, I know we don’t do the emotions rubbish, and I’d definitely like to keep it that way, but uhhh…” Jeremy hesitated again. James watched him. “And I know you hate contact, but… Come here…” James didn’t move, causing Jeremy to smile and walk the two paces away from him. He embraced May, and was surprised when the hug was returned. Time started to drag, and, surprisingly, neither of them was pulling away. It had to be a full ten seconds before James pulled away.       “Thanks for that. Now go away and let me clean up your mess, you fairy.”

       “Thanks for that. Now go away and let me clean up your mess, you fairy.”

       “G’night!” Jeremy said, smiling.  
       “Yeah, yeah. Night.”

       As the days and weeks passed, James found his feelings on the breakup growed less and less bothersome. He really had not been that terribly upset to begin with. Nothing a heavy night of drinking couldn’t fix. If anything, he missed the routine. He had enjoyed her company, of course. When he thought about her, he normally spent the time wondering if he ever actually loved her. He had at the time. When he would feel a wave of sadness come on, he would try to think of logical reasons the relationship would not have worked out. _It was bound to end,_ James would tell himself. He noticed the feeling of emptiness was getting harder to fight off as the holidays approached.

 

      “Mum, listen. Clarkson can’t go back home for the holidays! His parents are on holiday! If I don’t stay, he’ll be alone.” James pleaded.  
      “Where? What sort of family doesn’t spend Christmas with their son?” Mrs. May asked over the phone.  
      “I just know they went somewhere tropical. He’s my mate, mum. I don’t want him to be alone.” James looked to Jeremy who was sitting on the couch, watching. “Between you and me, I don’t think he’s in a good place right now. I think spending Christmas alone might push him over the edge,” James said. Clarkson gave two thumbs up.  
      “Well, just bring him here!”

       “I’m terribly sorry, mum. He wouldn’t feel comfortable. He needs to stay and heal. The breakup was pretty hard on him, to be honest.”  
       “This isn’t so you can spend Christmas with that Sarah girl and her family, is it?”  
       “Uh, no. We’ve cut it off.”  
       “Ohh, that’s a shame. Sorry, dear.”  
       “It’s okay, mum.”  
       “Well,all for the better. You can focus more on that music thing and wor-“  
       “Sorry, mum, I’ve got to go! I think Jeremy is crying again,” James said. Jeremy made a face of annoyance to show he did not appreciate a lie in which he came out looking so pathetic. “Give my love to Dad, Sarah, David, and Jane.” There was a small pause from James. “Yes, I love you too. Goodbye.”  
       “You are an absolutely appalling son,” Jeremy said as James joined him on the couch. “You know damn well I could handle the holidays alone! And the only breakup around here was yours! Lying to your mother… How horrib-“  
      “Fuck off. I really do love them, I just can’t take it this year. I need a quiet Christmas. And Lord knows, I would never hear the end of it if you had to spend Christmas alone. Poor Clarkson, the lone ranger. No sir, I’m not subjecting myself to that, thank you.”  
       “Heh, thanks for the consideration.  
  
      The next week brought Christmas Eve. James and Jeremy could have been found on the sofa, drinking more than usual. They agreed the film of the evening should be “Educating Rita”.  
       “Frank?” Rita called.  
       “‘What?’” Jeremy said with him. Clarkson was happy James had fallen asleep. He would not say that he was crying, but he was definitely more sniffily than usual.  
        “Thanks,” responded Rita. Jeremy could not hold in the small sob that fought its way through, and then he quickly checked to see if he had woken James. _Can’t let_ _him get this. Can’t hand the enemy ammo_ , Jeremy thought. He pulled back the dark brown curtain of hair covering his friend's face. James did not stir. _Thank god he let his hair grow out. It was bloody awful when it was shor_ t _. Lord, he looks strange when he’s sleeping. Snores like a fucking freight train. His mouth is strange, isn’t it? His face is strange. To be fair, a strange face for a strange person. Jeremy chuckles at his thoughts and pushed back the hair that had fallen again. James is strange looking… Strange, but admittedly not unattractive. Not in a homosexualist way, Jeremy_ , he assured himself. _That was a phase. I was just lonely after we moved. With only one real friend for company, it’s no wonder, really_. Clarkson stood and popped “Butch Cassidy” in the VHS; he did this for background noise if anything. He looked back at James whose head was on the pillow in the middle of the sofa; his long legs hung over the side of the armrest. Jeremy copied this position, sharing the pillow with James. He threw his blanket over his legs. he could feel the heat radiating off of the six-foot sinus right next to him. For the first time, the snoring wasn’t really bothering him. _This is nice,_ Jeremy thought. _Quite comfortable._  For one incredibly frightening moment, Jeremy nearly planted a small kiss on James’s cheek. He felt his face redden and panic filled him. _FUCK, fuck, fuck. No. No, no, that’s James, you stupid bastard. JAMES. Cynical, self-deprecating, annoying-_  
      _Clever, caring, kind,_ countered a voice in the back of Jeremy’s head.  
      _That’s not right,_  thought Jeremy. _He IS MY MATE. We have been through this!_  He turned his head toward the sofa, away from James. For a moment he contemplated getting up and going to sleep in his room, and then decided it was silly. _Why get up when you’re already comfortable, you daft twat? Go to sleep._  Jeremy could not help but let his mind wander from time to time, trying to reign them in with guessing the next line of the “Butch Cassidy” film.  
  
       “Clarkson?” James asked wearily. He was not completely awake, but he could still make out Clarkson’s sleeping form next to him. James laid still for a moment and tried to think about the night before. he had not had much to drink, he knew that. He was groggy. It took him a moment to realise it was Christmas.  
  
**“Oh god in his heaven,” James breathed. Jeremy bit the back of the other man’s shoulder, just enough to earn a gasp. He tightened his hand around James’s cock before thrusting behind him roughly. “JEREMY!” James cried out. Clarkson would have laughed at the sound of May’s voice if he were able. His mouth was a little preoccupied. “Clarkson,” said James.“Yes, James?” He managed to get out between gasps.**

        **“Yes, James?” He managed to get out between gasps**.  
**“Get up, you pillock.”**  
**“Pardon?” Jeremy asked him, confused. Things started to go black**.  
       “I said get up, you imbecile,” James said louder. Jeremy slightly opened his eyes and realised he was still on the couch. “Happy Christmas, mate,” James said. Clarkson let out a wheezy cough.

       “The hell are you doing here?”  
       “That’s what I was going to ask you, you muppet. Why did you sleep here? You could ‘ave at least told me to bugger off to my room. Or you could have done the buggering off.”  
    _I was until you woke me up,_  Jeremy thought. He chuckled.  
       “I don’t understand you, Clarkson,” James said, getting up from his sitting position on the sofa. “Tea?”  
       “Would you be a saint and make me some coffee?”  
       “Seeing as it’s Christmas, I will. That’s my good deed for the day, “ James said, walking to the coffee machine. He turned to ask Jeremy how he took his coffee when he saw the other man shift to a sitting position. It was then he noticed that his friend seemed to have a full erection. He could see it through his mate's shorts. James could have sworn Jeremy realised it as he shifted. His face seemed to twitch with slight horror. Without looking at James, Jeremy started walking past the kitchen towards the back of the flat.  
       “I’m going to the toilet,” he mumbled. James turned and tried to convince himself that he did not just see what he clearly saw.  
      _Only natura_ l, James said to himself. _Every man wakes up with a morning glory now and then._ Before he could stop it, a little voice in the back of his head said, _And_ _that was quite an impressive one._ For a moment, James felt sick. _You’re just missing Sarah. Stop. Stop thinking about your best mate… That is not all right,_  he chastised himself. Before he could stop the intruding vision, he saw himself bent over the table with Jeremy behind him, spanking him. For a moment, James thought he would be sick on the floor. It was not WHAT he was seeing that bothered him. It was the fact that what he was seeing him was NOT bothering him. _You are 21 years-old, you have_ _passed the age of experimentation._  
_Stop being silly,_  another voice argued. _This IS the age to experiment. Half a year left of university… You’re not tied down… Do it…_ James felt another wave of sick. His anxiety was started to act up. _Not with my best mate!_  he argued to that evil voice. Before he could think of anything else, he was joined by a content looking Jeremy.  
       “Where the hell’s my coffee?” Jeremy asked.  
       “I’m sorry I can’t make it at the pace you would like, sir. Would sir like for me to drink boiling water as punishment, sir?”  
       “Don’t turn my phrases on me, May. Give me the filter,” he said, holding his hand out. “Useless,” he said lightheartedly as he made his coffee. James decided to make his tea and suppress those terrifying thoughts for another time.

       “I know this is INCREDIBLY pathetic for someone as charismatic and attractive as me,” Jeremy started. James rolled his eyes. “But I don’t seem to have a date for my office New Year’s party. All of the beautiful girls have either gone back home, are taken, or resemble a half-formed gargoyle. Since I need someone to come with me, I have decided to ask the only half-formed gargoyle I know that isn’t already going.”  
       “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, you know. I’m not that sort of girl. It takes a lot more than cheap compliments to get my knickers down.” James said, crossing his arms. Jeremy chuckled.  
       “Well?”  
       “I don’t know, mate. I think I’d rather stay here and relax. It’s strange without… You know…” James trailed off. He did not want to bring up Sarah. He was getting sick and tired of the “You are much too good for her!” chant. James had no idea why everyone kept saying that. He had finally drawn the conclusion that it was just something generic people said after a breakup.  
       “Ahh, shut up. Come on! Up you get,” Jeremy said, dragging James off the couch. “We need to get out of this bloody flat. Go put on something snazzy. Not your stupid printed shirts.”  
       “What do I wear, then?”  
       “White shirt and black jacket. Go on! We have to be there in…” Jeremy consulted his watch. “Eight hours… Oh my, the way you move, we’ll be cutting it close.” Jeremy said with a smile. James returned it and went to his closet, checking to see if he had anything half-decent that would fit. Seeing as he didn’t actually own anything formal, Jeremy had to lend him a jacket. Jeremy was slightly taller than James and had outgrown that jacket a while back. He just could not be bothered to actually throw it away.  
       “Hurry UP, MAY!” Jeremy called from the sitting room.  
       “Can’t rush perfection.”  
       “James, I have never met anyone in my entire existence who was further from perfection as you, you shaggy-haired git.” James walked out of his room adjusting the collar of his shirt. Jeremy could not help but think of how attractive James looked when he actually put forth some effort. Little did Jeremy know, James was thinking the same thing of Jeremy. Before long, they were on their way.  
       “UM, James…”  
       “What?”  
       “Did I tell you about my job offer? In Chelsea?” Jeremy asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.  
       “N… No, no, you did not.”  
       “Uh, yeah, I have gotten a really nice offer to work with a paper there… I get to test cars. Uhh, I was planing on accepting it, actually… AND seeing as this is your final year of university, I was wondering if you would… Uh…. Possibly like to come live with me…” There was a pause. “I mean, two live cheaper than one! And your musics degree will be better in a much larger city.”  
        “Right… I hadn’t actually thought about what we were going to do after uni…” James said slowly. “I’ll… I will definitely think about it. It sounds like a nice idea.”  
        “Great! I’ll start looking-“  
        “Hold on. I haven’t said ‘yes’-“  
        “As good as,” Jeremy said with a smile. May knew Clarkson was right.  
  
      “This arsehole, Clarkson, has been on top form!” yelled one of Jeremy’s colleagues, slapping him on the back. Jeremy grinned. James watched the two men, trying to remember the name of the bloke. They had been introduced before , but James never really like him much. “I wouldn’t say ‘TOP’ form,” Jeremy said.  
       “Oh, come one, man! Don’t be modest!”  
       “I think Jeremy is physically incapable of being modest. He’d whither and die if he’d go more than a few hours without boasting about something or another,” James chimed in. While Clarkson chuckled, the other man did not.  
       “Right. Oh, is that Ian? I must say hello!” said the man, more or less sprinting off, soon to be lost in the crowd. James struggled to speak over the big band music playing.  
       “Clarkson! How much longer must we stay?”  
       “We just got here!” Jeremy responded. “Come on! Make an attempt to socialise! Get a drink! Loosen up, would you?”  
       “Clarkson!” called an approaching voice. Soon, a short man with a receding hairline had joined them. “Clarkson, glad you could make it! Charlie told me you were here!”  
       “Ian!” Jeremy greeted him with a firm one arm hug. “Ian, I’d like for you to meet my friend, James May. James, Ian Hislop.”  
       “Hello, nice to meet you,” Ian said, extending his hand.  
       “Yes, likewise,” James said, trying to shake his hand not too firmly, but with a good grip. He noticed his social anxiety spike for a moment, and then knocked it back under control. A moment later, they were joined by another bloke by the name of “Paul”. James liked him the most of the people he had met that night. Paul seemed interested in what James had to say. He found this slightly unnerving, as well as charming. Half an hour later, the both of them were sipping drinks at the bar.  
        “The Spitfire was probably my favourite model as a boy,” James said, sipping his gin and tonic.  
        “Yes, while I have to agree it is a fantastic model, I can’t say that it was my favourite.”  
        “Why not?”  
        “It was EVERYONE’S favourite. No, mine was probably the Bristol Bulldog. Did I cherish that thing.”  
        “I haven’t seen one of those in a lifetime,” James said, smiling. He was really starting to like this Paul character.  
        “I have one at my house! As a matter of fact,” Paul said, leaning in. “I have a whole collection.”  
        “You do not!”  
        “I do! I hoarded quite a few of my childhood memories. It’s at my home. You’re welcome to come see them if you’d like!”  
        “May! Martin!” Jeremy said, walking up to the bar. “What are you two up to?”  
        “I don’t go by ‘Martin’ anymore, Jeremy,” Paul corrected. “I changed it to ‘Merton’. Had I not told you?”  
        “What? No. Why in hell would you do that?” Jeremy asked, looking confused.  
        “There was already a Paul Martin in Equity-”  
        “You are in Equity?!” James asked excitedly. Paul chuckled.  
        “Yes, but it’s just happened a few days ago. Anyway, I had to change it to ‘Merton’. You’ve got to admit, it gives it a jazzy feel, wouldn’t you say? A glamorous air, if you will,” he said, sipping his drink. James laughed. “You know, Jeremy, your flatmate is quite interesting!”  
        “Do you mean odd?” Jeremy asked, smiling.  
        “No, no. Interesting. Funny, as well,” he said looking to James. “He can appreciate good humour when he hears it, obviously.” James chuckled at this. “So, James, what do ya say? Would you like to come back to see my small but proud Airfix collection?” “Tonight?” James asked.  
       “It is getting pretty late, mate,” Jeremy said, checking his watch. “An hour to midnight. I was planning on leaving after the year starts.” When Paul cocked his head at this, Jeremy explained, “I gave him a lift here.”  
        “Well, I wouldn’t mind bringing you home,” Paul offered. “It’s not that far, is it?” Right after the question was asked, James answered “Not at all,” and Jeremy had answered “A bit, yeah.” Paul looked confused for a moment and then said, “Well, I don’t mind a drive. The viewing won’t last long, really. Very small collection. STILL worth seeing, I’d say. Not to boast, of course.”  
        “I would like to see it, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience,” James said, a small smile on his face.  
        “Not at all, James,” Paul said, standing. “Shall we leave now?”  
        “James!” Jeremy all but yelled. James snapped his head around. “You… Uh… You have to come grab your keys out of the car. Remember, you left them in there.”  
        “Oh, right. I’ll be back in a minute, Merton,” James said, standing.  
        “I’ll walk with you,” Jeremy said, leading the way through the crowd. Once they had made it outside, Jeremy slowed to walk beside James. “Uh, May?”  
        “What?”  
        “Look, mate, I don’t know if you should go…”  
        “Why is that? Why would I pass up an opportunity to see an Airfix collection?”  
        “I think… I think he was chatting you up. I nearly positive he is going to try to bed you, May.”  
        “Are you mad?” James asked, opening the car to grab his keys. He shut the door after him and began to walk back to the party. Jeremy was still beside him.  
        “Well, no. You see, I know Paul. Oh, and I’m not blind. He was looking you the eyes.”  
        “Oh well. I’m just going to see his Airfix collection, yeah? No need to worry. Are you okay to drive?”  
        “Of course, but-“  
        “Fine. I’ll see you back at the flat.”

The conversation on the way to Paul’s house was absolutely electric. James and Paul seemed to have so much in common. Once they arrived, Paul led James to his mini bar in the kitchen.  
       “Please, take a seat on any stool you choose! I’ll be able to bring the collection in here. Would you like a drink before I bring them in?”  
       “What sort of question is that?” asked James. “I’d love a drink.”  
       “Wine?”  
       “You’ve known me only a few hours, but you know me so well!”  
       “Well, your drink preferences, at least,” said Paul with a chuckle. After pouring a glass of wine, Paul disappeared into another room for a moment or so, and emerged with one aeroplane in his hand. “Here it is! My collection!”  
       “Collection?! The bloody hell is that? It’s one aeroplane!” laughed James.  
       “Well, yes, when I said ‘them,’ I actually meant ‘it’. Paul said, smiling. James continued to laugh. “I was actually just looking for a way to get you out of that party,” he said. James’s laughter died away slowly.  
       “Hahaa, sorry?”  
       “It was so loud in there, don’t you think? It’s much easier to talk here. I mean, I love Sinatra as much as anyone else, but I can’t really say that I enjoy talking over him.”  
        “Oh,” James said with a small chuckle afterward.  
        “Have I made you uncomfortable, James?”  
        “No. Well, yes, to be perfectly honest,” James said, flushing red. Paul poured James another glass of wine, stood, and leaned on the opposite of the counter separating them.  
       “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. May. I genuinely thought we were on the same page. If you’d like, I could bring you home now.”  
       “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want this visit to be wasted,” said James. “I at least want to get another glass of wine out of you before I leave.” Paul laughed at this.  
      “You are charming, James,” he said barely above a whispered with a smile. He pushed some of James’s hair out of his face. James put down the glass and looked away from Paul. “Calm down, James. Relax. I could tell by the way you were flirting... You wanted this. Didn’t you?”  
       “I mean,” James started, growing scarlet. “I did. I just didn’t expect to get this far…”  
       “Just relax,” Paul said, leaning in closer. “Are you drunk?”  
       “I can be, if you want,” James responded. He was proud he could at least come up with something half witty.  
       “I just want to know I have your full consent,” Paul whispered. He had slowly gotten closer and placed a hand on James’s left cheek.  
       “Yeah,” James said quietly before tilting his head and placing his lips on Paul’s. Kissing Paul wasn’t like kissing Sarah. James was not surprised, but it was nice to confirm. Slowly, Paul led and deepened the kiss. James slid his tongue against the other man’s. Paul broke away and kissed lightly against James’s jaw line, and down his neck. The feeling of stubble against his neck was strange to James, but not overall unpleasant. He could not suppress a moan when Paul kissed that spot that drove him absolutely mad. Sensing it had that effect, Paul let his tongue drag across the sensitive skin, and then softly nibbled on it. May’s vision went momentarily blurry.  
“Bloody Nora,” James exhaled. Paul smiled against his flesh. A moment later, he joined James on the same side of the bar. May stood, and Merton took the opportunity to pull James’s body flush against his as they kissed. Paul’s hands made a slow and teasing trip down James’s back, before finally cupping his arse and giving it a squeeze. Another moan was elicited from James. Paul pulled back and rested his forehead against James’s.  
       “You’ve never had sex with a man, have you?” There was a pause.  
       “No, I haven’t,” James responded, still panting.  
       “Well, is there anything you’re curious about?” Paul grabbed James’s ass with both hands and pulled James’s hips against his own. May felt Paul’s erection against him. His own was fighting the confines of his trousers.  
       “Yeah... Let’s see where it goes.”  
       “I need to know if there’s anything you absolutely do not want to do,” Paul said, making eye contact. James took a deep breath and considered this.  
       “Uh, no. I’m willing to try new things… I’m open.”  
       “If you think you’re open now, just wait,” Paul said against James’s neck. “Come on. Bedroom. Now. Down the hall.” As James turned to walk, Paul gave James’s behind a good, hard smack. James jumped but did not protest. If he were perfectly honest, he liked it too much to protest.  
Once inside the bedroom, Paul began to undress himself and ordered James to do the same.  
       “Keep your pants on. I want the pleasure of taking those off,” Paul said, watching James strip.  
       “I- I don’t wear them.”  
       “Even better.” James stood shirtless, clothed only in the black trousers. Paul crossed the room, just his pants keeping his erection from springing forward. “Now, sit here,” he ordered, leading the younger man to the bed. “I’m going to show you what I like.” He took his time kneeling in front of James, unzipping the black trousers, and pulling them to James's anckels. The cold air sent a jolt through James. Paul set to work on May’s cock, first kissing the head, and then slowly taking only the head in his mouth. James’s hand flew to Paul’s hair, the other he used to support himself. It took all he had not to thrust into the hot, wet cavern. Soon, Paul worked his way to taking half of James’s moderately impressive length. He removed his mouth which earned a moan from James.  
       “One moment, love,” Paul said, grabbing a bottle of lube and a condom from his nightstand. James was incredibly apprehensive of this part, and he was sure Paul could sense it. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt for long.” For some reason, James did not find this terribly comforting, but when Paul’s mouth found its way to James’s cock again, all of the thoughts followed the blood rushing to his groin. One had on the other man’s shaft, the other hand on his hip, Paul tilted James’s hips back enough to allow him access. His finger, already lubricated, massaged James’s tender opening. He made sure to relax James before forcing his finger in and curving up. May’s eyes flew open.  
       “Okay?” Paul asked.  
       “Yeah… Yes,” James panted. It didn’t hurt… It felt strange. Once Paul sensed James had grown accustomed to the size, he added a second finger. After a few thrusts, he finally located James’s prostate. Once he found it, he thrust into the little ball of nerves.  James cried out and shut his lips tightly. Paul knew May was ready. He removed his fingers and slipped on the condom, talking dirty to James to keep him aroused. He knew the younger man was nervous. Who wouldn’t be?  
       “You close your lips now, but you won’t be able to keep them closed in a bit. I’m going to make you come so hard, James. Hell, you may even go blind.” He lined himself up at James’s entrance and added more lubricant, followed by tracing his penis up and down James’s ass. Both men moaned. After pulling James closer to the end of the bed for easier access, he slid his full length into him.  
       “Good god!” James yelled out. He felt as though his breath had been knocked from him. His face was contorted with mostly pain. He was expecting a stretch, but not that much of one. Paul withdrew and slowly forced his way back. James whimpered. The more he thrusted, he would move slightly faster. He wasn’t quite ready for Paul to push in that quickly, nor was he really ready when Paul withdrew and slammed back into him. James bit his hand. Four or five thrusts later, Paul stopped and pulled out.  
       “Turn over. Arse up, face down,” he managed through his heavy breathing. James would be lying if he said he was not absolutely terrified. He couldn’t bring himself to ask for an easier pace. Paul stood and grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it under May’s lean stomach. James turned the pillow and began to bite it hard. He grabbed the bedsheets in both hand. May felt Paul realign and thrust inside of him.  
       “FUCK!” James screamed into the pillow, followed by pained grunts.  
       “Don’t worry, love… Stop hurting… Soon…” Paul managed in between thrusts. One hand was grabbing James’s hip roughly and pushing James back against him.       The other hand was wrapped and pulled James’s hair. Tears were burning May’s eyes and threatened to spill. It wasn’t for a few more moments that he started to understand what Paul had met. He reached under him and began to pump himself in time with Merton’s thrusts. While the pain element was definitely still present, James could feel an orgasm quickly approaching.  
       “Oh, MAN IN HEAVEN! I’m gonna come!” He yelled. Paul removed his hand from the other man’s hair and placed it on May’s hips. The pace quickened and became more erratic. For one horrifying moment, James nearly called out “JEREMY!”, but caught himself right before. The named turned into an incomprehensible scream into the pillow, which was followed by a small mess on James’s stomach and Paul’s sheets. Merton followed shortly after. He pulled out agonisingly slow, making James whimper at the loss. He threw the condom away in a small bin in the corner of the room. James was so exhausted, he didn’t care if he was going to sleep nude. He was sore and wiped away a few tears that had strayed.  
       “Well? How was it?” Paul asked, crawling in beside James. The latter fought to keep his voice steady.  
       “Incredibly different… I would definitely do it again,” James said truthfully. _Yes, but maybe with someone who will not tear me another anus_ , James thought.  
       “That’s good,” Paul said. He leaned over and turned off the lamp by his bed. “Good night, James. Oh, and happy New Year.”  
       “G’night, Paul,” James said. He couldn’t help but think of Jeremy.

        “Well, I suppose you spent the night at Martin’s,” Jeremy said when he had finally emerged from his room. James looked up from the sandwich he was currently devouring. It was a little past noon and Paul had dropped him off about an hour ago. He had gone taken a shower and cleaned up.  
       “Merton’s,” James correct.  
       “Whatever he’s calling himself now,” Jeremy said, heading over to the fridge. “You could have at least phoned. I didn’t know you were spending the night. You could have been murdered and on the side of the road for all I knew.”  
       “Terribly sorry, but didn’t we already discuss that you are not my mother?” James asked, slightly annoyed. “Would you please get me a cup of tea? Please?” James didn’t really enjoy the idea of moving, especially in front of Clarkson. He was incredibly sore from the night before.  
       “Get your own damn tea,” Jeremy said quietly.  
       “No need to be such an arse, you know,” James said, taking a bite of his sandwich. There was a pause.  
       “What did you do, suck him off?” Jeremy quietly asked. James nearly choked.  
       “Pardon?”  
       “Did you suck him off? Or did you let him…” Jeremy trailed off. He raised his eyebrows, pointed one finger, and an “O” with the other and thrust the pointed finger into it roughly and repeatedly.  
       “Please tell me how that is any of your business,” James responded. He was quickly getting annoyed.  
       “You did! That’s why you’re sitting like that!”  
       “Like what?”  
       “THAT!” Jeremy said, motioning at him. James had no idea what the other man was talking about. It HAD hurt to sit, but he was in a rather normal position on the couch.  
       “Fuck off, Clarkson,” James said. He was still slightly uncomfortable with the idea that he was with a man. The scary part was, he somewhat enjoyed it.  
       “I can’t believe you, James.”  
       “Do you not understand the meaning of ‘fuck off’?”  
       “Well, if anyone can show me, I’m sure you’d be the one!” Jeremy said, angrily.  
       “Jeremy! Would please stay out of my sex life! It is NONE of your bloody business who I’m bonking-“  
       “OR who’s bonking you.”  
       “You are fucking impossible,” James said, standing. He winced as he stood, and he knew Jeremy saw it.  
       “Wow, he must’ve gotten you pretty good-“  
_Wouldn’t you know? What, you didn’t see it? Did your binoculars fog up?”_ James walked to his room and laid in bed. _Why the fuck his he so concerned about who I’m sleeping with?”_ James thought.  
_You know damn well_ , said the evil little voice in the back of James’s head.  
_No. He’s Jeremy. I’m James. Something between us would be absolutely vulgar_.  
      _Forget that for now,_ said the other voice. _You fucked a man last night_. _What are you going to do about that?_  
        _What is there to do?_  
      _Did you enjoy it?”_ asked the voice. _James thought on this and waited to respond._  
_I think I did._  
_So, are you a homosexual?_  
_I’m not completely sure. I enjoyed being with Paul. Probably as much as I had been with Sarah. It was nice._  
_To be determined, then?_  
_Yes, thought James. Yeah, I’ll think about it._

The next few weeks saw James regularly visit Paul. Merton was more than willing to show James different things men could do in bed. He even let James fuck him once. May had come to the conclusion he had no preference of who was doing the fucking; he would even admit he slightly preferred getting it than giving it. This and other enlightenments were brought to James with the help of Paul. Back at the flat, Jeremy continued to pout. When he WOULD talk to James, it was always something rude or condescending. James, however, wasn’t really bothered. This had all happened before. Plus, James had exams to worry about. This was his last year at university. It was not the time to cock it up.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I'm back! Sorry it has taken so long to publish chapter four! Thank you for the patience! a few notes before you start. 1. I know the adverts mentioned came out in 1986, not 1985. 2. I know the chapter is really short; next chapter will definitely be longer. 3. Please feel free to comment constructive criticism or suggestions. Please let me know what you think! And as for the time I said I would post this... In my defence, it was still the 20th when I finished writing it! Not when I was editing it... Also, some lines are Peep Show inspired. They fit. Okay, enjoy!

       James lay in bed under the sheets, his eyes glancing over the room. He was amazed at how much could happen in as little as two and a half years. He glanced at his calendar by the window and thought with difficulty about the date. _It’s…well… New Y_ ears _was_ _weeks ago, yeah? it’s definitely not February… Damn, a few weeks till. Cant believe it’s the 12th already…._ He was shocked at just how quickly time was flying. James turned on his Walkman and adjusted the headphones. All thoughts were chased away with the epic intro to “Hells Bells”. He began to mouth out the words, and did so for the next song as well; he was a massive fan of ACDC’s “Back in Black” album. Once the third song came on, one he didn’t know as well as the others, he started to listen to the lyrics.

  
“You're working in bars  
Riding in cars  
Never gonna give it for free  
Your apartment with a view  
On the finest avenue  
Looking at your beat on the street  
You're always pushing, shoving  
Satisfied with nothing  
You bitch, you must be getting old!”

 

James chuckled. So far, the song was pretty relatable.

“So stop your love on the road

All your digging for gold  
You make me wonder  
Yes I wonder, I wonder  
Honey, whaddya do for money  
Honey, whaddya do for money  
Where you get your kicks?”

  
_Still too relatable,_ James smiled. S _peaking of what I would do for money,_ he thought looking at his clock. _I_ _have to get my lazy arse up. It’s half past three…_   _If I_ _get up in_   _ten minutes, I might still be on time… If I get up in fifteen, I wont be able to change clothes…_ He looked and realised he was wearing the last clean outfit he owned.  _F_ _ifteen it is, then._ As the song continued, he started to think of his plans for later on that afternoon. Dinner at Paul’s. He felt his heart leap at the thought, and he hated himself for it. _N_ _o, no… We aren’t going to start that. I’m nearly positive this is strictly casual sex, nothing else._ Before he knew it, it was time for him to drag his lanky self out of bed and meander out of the flat.

“I can’t say I agree with you there, James. Airfix is much more interesting than Hornby,” Paul said, setting down his pint. They had gone to James's local for a change. 

“But it isn’t, is it? Don’t get me wrong, I am a massive fan of Airfix-“

“Yes, yes, I know.”

“Yes. Right, well-"

“Can we talk about something other than Airfix?” Paul asked irritably. James was slightly taken aback.

“Oh, uh, yes… Of course.”

“Sorry if that seemed rude, I’m just not that-“

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Clarkson’s the same way. He’s made it quite plain that I can get boring on certain topics,” James said with a small smile. A few silent moments later, the food had arrived and both men tucked in.

“Right, so, has Clarkson started talking to you again?” Paul asked.

“Oh yes, he talks to me loads; that’s not the problem. Has he started being civil again? No, not quite.”

“What does he say?”

“You know, just jabs here and there,” James mumbled, shrugging. He’d rather throat-punch a child than have this discussion with Paul. Jeremy worked with Paul, and even though James and Jeremy weren’t seeing eye to eye at the moment, May did not need word that Jeremy may or may not be a horrible person spreading around the office. Most of the things Jeremy called his flatmate nowadays would definitely turn a few heads. James had been weathering it for this long simply because he could tell Jeremy was bothered for some reason or another, and James DID NOT want to ask why. He decided he was finished with emotions until Easter.

“Like what?” Paul pushed.

“Uh, you know... All the works.”

“Such as?”

“Fairy, nancy, etc..” James whispered, listing the more tame insults. He didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. Paul followed suit.

“So he knows that we?… Right… Did you tell anyone else?”

“Oh no, definitely not. Jeremy guessed; I haven’t actually confirmed anything. You don’t have to worry about him talking to anyone."

“Right… James, could you please…Could you talk to him?” Paul asked, not making eye contact. James was confused.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, you have to see it from my point of view. I work with Jeremy… I think he knew I was bisexual to begin with, but I really don’t need that spreading 'round the office. With all of the hysteria around… You know, all of that…” Paul made a wheel like motion with his hands, trying to show James should know what he was talking about. Paul was still averting the other man’s eyes.

“Hysteria around what?” James asked testily. He was starting to get annoyed with Paul.

“HIV, James. HIV.” Paul responded. James was shocked for the second time in the last 30 seconds.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. You don’t have it, do you?”

“No! Absolutely not,” Paul said, looking offended. “Anyway, I would have told you, wouldn’t I?”

“No, of course. Of course you would have,” James mumbled sheepishly. “Alright, I’ll have a chat with him.”

“Right. Okay then,” Paul said, starting to eat again. James had completely forgotten they had food in front of them. A few moments of silence passed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll just drop you home after this, yeah? I have to do some writing for the standup on Friday.”

“That sounds fine,” James responded, stuffing his mouth. Paul had a gift for making him feel like a needy girlfriend. "Would you like to Sugar House with me on Wednesday?"

"What's happening on Wednesday?"

"My birthday," James said. 

"Well, sure! I'd love too. See you there!" Paul said.

 

  
“Please don’t forget to talk to Jeremy, love.” Paul said, stopping to let James out of the car.

“I’ll talk to him.”  
  
“Great. I’ll see you on Friday, yeah?”

“Of course. I look forward to it,” James said, leaning forward as the other man planted a kiss on his lips.

“Brilliant. See you there.” Merton made sure James had walked through the door before driving off.

James found Jeremy on the sofa with a chicken tikka curry, the news playing on the small television on the table.  
  
“Having a curry without me?” James asked lightly.

“You were out,” Clarkson said simply.

"Well, yeah. It's my birthday. Of course I went out."

"You didn't invite me," Jeremy said, a note of pain obvious in his voice. 

“Right, well I’m here now. I can fix us both a glass of wine and we can switch over to a film, if you like.”

“No, James. I would watch a film if I wanted to watch a film. I’m watching the news, yeah? I have to keep up with it in my line of work,” Jeremy said irritably, as if he were talking to a child. James turned to look at him from the fridge.

“You’re a car journalist.”

“I still have to keep up with the news, you muppet.” Jeremy mumbled.

 _But you don't really, do you?_ James thought.

“Where’d you go?” Jeremy asked after the adverts came on.

“The pub down the road.”

“Ah.”

“Anything interesting happen today?” James asked, sitting down in the armchair next to the sofa.

“No.”

“Brilliant,” James whispered, sipping his wine. They sat in silence and watched the events of the day relayed by a newscaster whom James was positive had died inside many years ago. for the most part, Jeremy was right about the slow news day. He found it difficult to keep his mind from wandering to his conversation with Paul _. I'll be damned if I’m going to talk to him about this right now. I dont want to fall out about it now, so I’ll save that._  His mind started sorting through all the things he had to do. “Fuck,” he whispered out loud. “I’ve got an exam on Monday-“ he started, more to himself than to Jeremy, before he was shushed by the latter. James grabbed his wine and started to stand when an advert caught his attention.

 **“There is now a danger that has become a threat to us all. It is a deadly disease and there is no known cure. The virus can be passed during sexual intercourse with an infected person,”** James was watching the television, but it seemed Jeremy was looking out of the corners of his eyes to see May’s reaction. This advert had played several times today. **“Anyone can get it, man or woman. If you ignore AIDS, it could be the death of you. So don't die of ignorance.”**

James was still for a moment, his face blank.

“Scary, isn’t it?” Jeremy asked quietly. "I have to go take a test before I rent the London flat. You have to take it to get life insurance-" He paused to take a beath. "Which you need to get a flat.”

“Ah. So you found one?”

“Are you and Paul… You know… Being safe?” Jeremy asked, completely ignoring James’s question. May took a small breath to calm his nerves. He had no idea why the advert had such an effect on him. He was also getting increasingly annoyed by the way no one seemed to care what he asked or said. “Yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean you ‘think so’?” Jeremy asked. “For fuck’s sake, May!”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m nearly positive I… Wait a second,” James said, trying to to recall the last few weeks. He wanted to be certain each intimate moment was covered. _W_ _e’ve had sex exactly…. Yes, five times... But did we use a condom each time?_ James struggled to remember. The conversation had never ACTUALLY come up. Even with all the furore around the virus, James hadn’t actually considered it a threat. It hadn’t crossed his mind that he was in a high risk group.

“What a fucking idiot,” Jeremy said quietly, returning his eyes to the television. “You should go get tested.”

“Would you stop insulting me for just a bloody moment? That would be fantastic,” James said, walking towards his room. “I really don’t think a test in necessary.”

“James!” Jeremy called, getting up from the sofa. James stopped in his tracks and turned to face Jeremy; he braced himself for any insult Clarkson may throw. “Listen to me, this isn't something you should fuck about with.” There was a pause. “I haven’t made an appointment yet. Why don’t we go together?”

“Clarkson, really, I’m fine.”

“Please.”

“Why are you so bothered?” James asked.

“Because One, you've been fucking Paul. Two, let’s just say I know a bit of his… History. I would feel better if you would get tested with me.”

“Alright, mate. I’ll go.”

“Good. ‘Bout time you came to your senses you bloody fool,” Jeremy said, flopping back down on the couch. James could see him thinking, but of what, he could not figure out. He walked into his room feeling a little foolish and incredibly confused. He did not want his mind to wander and overthink Jeremy’s persistence over whether or not James was tested.  _W_ _ell, you shouldn’t be afraid to think about it, you numpty. He’s your best mate! No wonder he’s concerned about your health. Why do you always overthink things?_ James sighed and began to pull out his books, a pen, and paper. _I_ _t isn’t a big deal. A bloody fool, that’s what you are. Now hurry up and revise so you can sleep._

 

The rest of the week that followed went by fairly quickly. James remained busy throughout. Jeremy had made an appointment for the both of them to have their blood tested the week following. Even though Clarkson still obviously cared for James, he would find any opportunity to jab at the other man’s relationship.

  
“Are you two even in a proper relationship?” Jeremy taunted. It was Thursday and James had not had a good night's sleep for several days, so he was in no mood to fall out with his "friend".  
  
“Bugger off, Clarkson,” he responded promptly, trying to stop the inevitable argument. He was getting sick and tired of Jeremy’s outbursts very quickly. He walked out of the room and realised he didn’t actually know the answer to Jeremy’s question. _Ask tomorrow after the show. Don’t make a big deal of it obviously. Just… Ask…_

 

Lucky for James, Paul had an early show the next day. It had given them plenty of time for dinner and whatever they may want to do afterwards. Paul’s performance left James in stitches. That was one thing about Paul that James absolutely adored; Paul was completely and unarguably hilarious. After the show, Merton and May were on the road, thinking of where they could possibly go eat.

“It’s only nine,” James said, checking his watch. “How about the pub?”

“I find it hilarious that you only suggest the pub when I’m driving. You are a budding alcoholic, James May,” Paul said with a laugh. James smiled. “Now that I think about it, why am I even driving? Aren’t you the car enthusiast?”

“Yeah, but why spend money on petrol when someone else will for you?”

“That’s evil, May. You’re evil.”

“Call the times!” James said, still smiling.

“Speaking of evil, did you talk to Jeremy?”

“Uh... No, I didn’t really get a chance-“

“Jamesss,” Paul drawled, disappointment evident in his voice. “Why not?” May searched for an answer better than “I didn’t want to, and I don’t plan on it, so fuck off.”

“I didn’t really have the time. I will, though. I will.”

“Well, I’d really appreciate it. I can’t afford something like this getting out.” Even though James understood what Paul meant by that, he was slightly hurt by the statement. He decided to pursue the topic of their relationship further.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘something like this’?”

“James, I don’t know if you remember, but we’ve been shagging for the past few weeks. Remember?” There was a pause; he was obviously expecting James to say something sarcastic in return, and when he didn’t, Paul continued. “I mean I can’t see how you’d forget! You seemed to genuinely enjoy the last time.” Another moment of silence. “James? Hello? Earth to James, are you with us?”

“Yeah, Paul. I was just wondering what I’ll tell Jezza. He’s going to ask us if we’re just casually shagging or-“

“I doubt he’ll ask that!”

“Okay, but is that what we’re doing? Just in case he asks.”

“Tell him we are!” Paul said. “Now, where are we going?”

“But are we?” James asked quietly. Paul seemed to finally understand this was more for James’s understanding rather than Jeremy’s.

“Listen, James. I enjoy your company. You are an incredibly interesting person.”

 _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ James wondered.

“But I really don’t see you as more than a friend. I mean, a friend I shag, admittedly. But nothing more. I. I’m sorry if I led you to believe we were anything different…”

“No, no,” James said quickly. He was desperately trying to hide the fact that he felt as though he had been hit by a lorry. It was silent for a minute or so. “Of course. Oh bugger! I have a bloody essay due! I haven’t even started on it!” James said, hoping Paul would believe him.

“It’s Friday night, James.”

“Yes, but you don’t understand. This essay is going to murder me. Ten pages on Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.” He could tell Paul wasn’t fooled. Thankfully, he dropped the younger man off at the flat without any more questions. He was sure Paul knew James was upset.

“I hope the essay goes well. Can I see you sometime this weekend?” Paul asked as the May was getting out of the car.

“Maybe. I have a feeling I’ll be spending most of the weekend in the library, if I’m honest."

“Right. Well, just call me next time you want to get together. I really do have a great time when I’m with you, James. I’m sorry if-“

“Oh, don’t worry,” James said. “I’m not bothered! I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Sure thing.” Paul said. James closed the door and began to walk towards the flat. He heard Paul drive off, and he took a deep breath. He could feel his eyes prickling with tears.

 _I don’t have a bastard clue what I keep doing wrong_. _I cant be that difficult, can I? Am I simply not dating material?_ Before he could have any similar thoughts, he heard his dad’s voice in the back of his mind. “S _top it, James. You’re being a sissy boy. Suck it up and move on! Be a man!"_ " _R_ _ight you are_ ," he responded to the voice _. I'll just have a quick drink. Everything will be fine. A bit of whiskey will do me just fine._

 

He walked into the flat to find Jeremy in very much the same position as when James came back from the last date. It seemed the other man did nothing else but drink in front of that television.  “Clarkson,” James said simply, closing the door behind him.

“You’re home early. Mert-MARTIN didn’t last too long this time, did ‘e?”

“Shut up,” James said, “Are you watch ‘Butch’ again?” Jeremy simply grunted in reply. May could tell tonight was one of those nights Clarkson wanted to pick a fight. He walked to the cupboard, grabbed the whiskey, and started the task of pouring a glass. “Want one?”

“Whiskey? Ohhhhh, that’s not good. Had a domestic?”

 _Keep calm_ , James thought. _He’s obviously had a few._  “Why are you trying to pick a fight, Clarkson?”

  
“I’m not. Simply asking you what happened.”

  
“Completely clattered already? It’s not even half passed nine!”

  
“Going back to my question of why you’re here. Did you not even wait to get home? Just his little whore, right? When and where he wants it, you just,” Jeremy made a motion with his hand and mouth that was completely unmistakeable.

  
“You are completely out of line, Clarkson,” James said very quietly. His temper had risen to a point he considered dangerous. The last comment did a fine job of really sticking him.

  
“Look at you! Away with the fairies!”

  
“Funny, coming from you. If I recall correctly, I wasn’t the one who got a bonk-on when I slept on the same sofa as my mate,” James retorted quietly. He had no idea what had overcome him, but it had gone as soon as he saw the hurt flash on Jeremy’s face. He didn’t have to see it long, thankfully, because it was soon covered by unadulterated rage.

  
“Wow! That’s amazing. You’re running around like the whore of Babylon, fucking Paul, and I am the poofter?! That’s rich. Well, why don’t you bend over, James? Let me give you one!” Jeremy yelled. James was speechless. “Come on! Bend over! I wouldn’t think you’d mind! I’ll even give you a few quid after!”

  
“That is incredibly rich,” James said, his voice rising. “Especially considering I have only been with two people in the last three years and you have been with at least fifty.”

  
“It hasn’t been fif-“

  
“STOP making it sound like I sleep around! You have been doing this since New Years, and I am sick and bloody tired of it! You want to keep living together, yeah? Get a flat near your new job? Well, keep this up and it won’t happen!” James yelled. It was Jeremy’s turn to be speechless. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m going out.”

  
“Huh. Go choke on Paul’s sausage,” Jeremy said. James wheeled around.

  
“Well, maybe I _should_ suck you off, then! Couldn’t choke on you if I tried! And for your fucking information, I will not be seeing Paul anymore!” James yelled. The last thing he saw of the flat was Jeremy’s blank face. May slammed the door behind him and went off to the pub.

Once he made it, he decided to stick with the idea of whiskey. Two down him, James finally allowed himself to have a think about the night’s events. _Alright. Paul does not feel the same way about me. Fine, I get it. Am I upset?_ He thought on this. _No. Disappointed more like. Why do you have to be in a relationship, James? You’ve only just gotten out of a two year one. Why do you keep wanting to date people?_  His eyes roamed the relatively quiet pub, more or less waiting for an answer to jump in front of him. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. The events as of late had jumpstarted a depression to rival that of the one of his school days. His later teen years had been rubbish, really. _But you digress,_ James thought. He ignored what felt like a ball of lead in his chest. _We can deal with that later, yeah? Let’s sort through this first… God above, you really are a mess, May. Problem number one: Sarah._

  
_She’s not a problem,_ a voice argued in the back of his head. _She was just a comfort object-_

  
_No,_ James argued. _Don’t say that. That’s terrible. I think I genuinely loved her a little after the beginning… Alright, she just wasn’t for me, yeah? Moving on. Paul… I wasn't REALLY interested in a relationship with him, was I? What would the good in that be? A fling is nice, yeah, but we could never say we were a couple… The stigma around… That… it just wouldn’t be possible. But I did enjoy it… Did I enjoy it more than Sarah?_  He sat there, straining to find an answer. _I think I enjoyed the sex more?… Right, enough of this rubbish. Okay, we’re getting too intoxicated for proper life-altering thoughts. Drink today, sort it out with a cuppa tomorrow. Whiskey to forget and tea to sort through. Never the two should cross._ James had a few more drinks, a game of wrong handed darts with a random bloke, and decided to walk home before he was completely inebriated. _Hopefully Jezza’ll be in his room. Oh god above, please let him be in his room…_

  
James was disappointed to find his pleas to a higher power were not answered. He walked through the door, steeling himself. He said nothing and walked to his room, sparing a glance at Jeremy as he walked past.

  
“May!” Jeremy called, standing from the sofa.

  
“I am in no mood for a fight, Clarkson.”

  
“No, I’m not either. I just wanted to say… Uh, sorry for the… You know… Earlier…”

  
“No problem, good night,” James said, turning towards his bedroom door.

  
“James, please come sit with me for a moment. Look, I know you’re clattered and want a lie down. Give me a second?” Jeremy paused as James stared at him. He motioned for James to go sit on the sofa, and the other man did so. “Listen, we need to talk.”

  
“I’m in no position-“

  
“I know, I know. I just wanted to tell you that… Well, I didn’t approve of Martin because it was too soon after Sarah. That’s all.”

  
“Rubbish,” James said almost immediately after. He started to take off his coat. The room seemed to be getting warmer and warmer, and the itchy blue jumper he was waring was more than enough.

  
“No, really.”

  
“But that’s not why, is it? You would have told me if that were the case,” James said plainly, getting up to get a glass of water. He drank it quickly and poured another glass, bringing it back to the sofa with him. In the time it took him to do so, Jeremy had not spoken. “Want to hear my hypothesis?” Jeremy only nodded, visibly uncomfortable and apprehensive.

  
“I think you’re jealous that I’m spending time with other people. You aren’t secure 'bout our friendship and you’ve been taking it out on me. And you run off with as many people as you like! I don’t make a fuss! I am sick of it, Clarkson, and I mean it.” After a small silence, James prodded Jeremy with “Well, what do you have to say?”

  
“James… You are a complete pillock,” Jeremy said smiling. “I don’t really know how to explain it.” James was taken aback. He noticed just how close they were sitting on the sofa; they were a cushion apart, both had one leg crossed over the other. They faced each other, and May could smell the rosé on his friend's breath. A chill ran down his spine when he heard the deep chuckle coupled with the smell. Something about it made his cock jump ever so slightly.

  
_Oh god in his heaven, not now NOT NOW!_ James pleaded with his body.

  
“I… James, I… Yeah,” Jeremy said, nodding. The smile left his face slowly. “No, actually you may be right. I’ll work on it, mate. Promise. I think I’m going to go off to bed,” he said, standing slowly. Something flashed across his face, an expression James couldn’t actually identify. “Actually,” Jeremy started sitting back down, closer to his friend. For the first time in a while, he touched May. James, not expecting this pulled away slightly.

  
“Sorry,” he said quickly, trying not to seem rude. “I wasn’t expecting-“ James was silenced by Jeremy’s shaking hand gentle cupping his jawline. James felt his cock do another leap and knew it would soon be obvious if Jeremy didn’t stop this soon. Clarkson swallowed. “Jeremy-“ was all James had a chance to say when Clarkson, obviously incredibly nervous, leaned in towards him, and barely brushed James’s lips with his own. His eyes were closed. It wasn’t actually a kiss as such, really. Their lips parted and James was speechless. Both men were breathing heavier than they normally would, their hearts racing, and May saw Jeremy’s moment of brief panic. He planted one hand behind Jeremy’s head, softly burying it into his mate’s thick, brown hair. He pushed his lips against Jeremy’s trembling ones, this time planting a solid, unmistakeable kiss. Slowly, May opened his mouth with Jeremy following suit, and their tongues moved against each other, fuelling the fire of the kiss. Jeremy shifted at a glacial pace; what felt like ages later, he was on top of James. May’s head was on one end of the sofa, one arm trailing under Jeremy’s shirt and up his back, the other in his brown mass of hair. Jeremy had a leg on either side of May’s right thigh, one arm supporting him and the other hand on the base of James’s neck and chest. Clarkson let his lips trail from May’s lips, down to his neck, finding and sucking on the spot that made James’s back arch. Even through the excitement and passion of the moment, he could still feel the older man shaking. he dared not take off his or his friend’s shirt, afraid it might ruin the moment for Jeremy. He waited for the other man to slowly take off his shirt, and then his own. Jeremy moved his legs so they were in between James’s, and he timidly let their hips make contact, earning a gasp from the both of them. Both men were breathing heavily. So as not to scare him a way, James waited for Jeremy to thrust four or five times before grabbing Clarkson’s bottom and meeting his thrusts. A few moments later, Jeremy moved off of his mate, looking incredibly nervous and confused.

“Would you like to… You know?” Jeremy asked, face red. He made a jerking motion with his wrist. James, propped up on his elbows, stifling a laugh.

  
“Yeah, sure. Uhh, wait a moment. I’ll be right back.”

A moment later, James had retrieved the bottle of lube from his room and sat back down to a nervous looking Jeremy. He slowly leaned in and kissed him, his lips first and trailing down to his neck, finally stopping on his nipple. He flashing his tongue over the sensitive bud and Jeremy inhaled sharply, burying his hands into May’s hair. James let one hand trail down from the older man’s neck, slowly grazing over the pale plane of his chest, and down to his lower stomach, where it momentarily rested on the small trail of dark hair. He looked into Jeremy’s eyes as he slowly reached under the band of his trousers, feeling his hot, pulsing appendage through his pants. Jeremy's eyes screwed shut and he moaned when James gave it a good squeeze and began to properly grope him. Standing, James took off Jeremy’s clothes and grabbed the lube. He turned back to see a fully naked and erect Jeremy. It was probably the most erotic thing he had ever seen. The flushed, sweaty skin… The heavy breathing… It took all James had to not unzip his trousers and wank at the sight of him. He did unzip his trousers but waited to touch himself, still afraid he might scare Jeremy. He repositioned himself in between Jeremy’s thighs and squirted lube into his hand. Jeremy's eyes followed the younger man's movements and shut tightly as May's grip on his penis tightened. Slowly but firmly, James began to pump him. Clarkson was quick to thrust into his hand. Once he could tell Jeremy was completely wrapped in his own pleasure, he finally took off his trousers(thankfully, he never wore pants) and found Jeremy had taken over during the process. They sat there, each wanking at the sight of the other man. Calling out James’s name weakly, Jeremy came first, his semen hitting his stomach and chest. James, hunching over Clarkson, one arm supporting himself, he came onto Jeremy’s chest, a bit hitting his chin. They stayed there panting and moaning lightly in the short moment after. James weakly stood and dampened a rag, handing it to Jeremy so he could clean himself off. He couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach, coupled with a strange sense of some warm feeling he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) identify. Suddenly, crushing regret hit James like a ton of bricks.

  
  _James, you bloody idiot… That’s JEREMY. Oh God, what have I done? What the actual fuck have I done? James, he fucks anything that isn’t nailed down. This isn’t anything you fucking moron. Fuck, fuck, fuck._  James, panic-stricken, grabbed his clothes and the bottle of whiskey he had left near the sink earlier that evening, and walked to his room; he did not say a word or spare a glance to Jeremy. _Look at you. You are a little whore, no better than what he was saying earlier. God, what would dad think? What would MUM think? They’ve raised a licentious, amoral freak._  James knew deep down he was being much more dramatic than he needed, but the events of that night coupled with the alcohol couldn’t stop the thoughts. For the second time that evening, he felt tears prickle his eyes. He felt the ball of lead sink onto his chest and he took a massive swig of the whiskey. _You’ve really fucking done it. And you know the worst part._  He felt a tear trail down his face.  _Fuck. I knew it. I’ve gone and gotten attached to the bastard. That's the worst part. you bloody fancy him. God above._

  
_You’ve known this for a while, haven’t you_? asked the voice in James’s head. _You figured if you ignore it, it would go away. It didn’t, did it? Now you’re left here, tainted and hung up over a boy who only wanted a quick shag. You’re worse than a bloody teenage girl._  For the first time in a few years, James let himself have a good cry before he drifted off into an unrestful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

AN: I have been incredibly busy recently and haven't really had a chance to sit and type. I went through this chapter and tried to fix all errors. For the most part, the changes occur about halfway through. I’ve changed phrasing and reactions. All that jazz.  Anyway, I will try to be more consistent with my posting in the future.  I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please let me know if you have any suggestions!

The next morning, James woke up with the same ball of lead sitting on his chest, now joined by another in his stomach and a brand new level of guilt and shame. He checked his alarm clock. _Seven. Right, well, I’ll ring mum and dad and tell them I’m coming in for the rest of the weekend. I can’t stay here._ James let his fingers massage his aching temples. Not only was he suffering from an unholy hangover, but he had the added discomfort of his eyes sore from the monumental weep he had before dozing off.   _Well, now you have something to cry about,_ he heard the voice that sounded remarkably like his dad say. He sighed and began to pack, trying to get out of the house before Jeremy had the chance to wake up. On one hand, he knew leaving would only make the situation worse; On the other hand, he knew he was not emotionally stable enough to fit just yet. He had enough face it head-on. James had enough fighting his studies, not even his top priority. He did not need the added stress of Sarah, Paul, and now Jeremy. The very thought of it made James’s heart sink further, something he would have sworn to be impossible. _How could you fuck yourself this horrifically, May? He was your best(more like only actual) friend... Oh, fuck,_ he thought, his eyes starting to sting.   _No,_ _you don’t._ _You’ve had your cry. You know better._ He finished the last of his packing, not sure if what he had would match or how many outfits he had. He decided to make a quick cup of tea before he left, just to sort himself out. Upon leaving his room, he was greeted by the sight of Jeremy sleeping on the sofa, apparently only bothered enough to pull on his shorts. The thin blanket that normally took residence on the side sofa was currently wrapped around his tall, lanky frame, his body rising and falling with deep, even breaths. James chastised himself for the way his heart leapt at the sight.   _That’s another thing we’re gonna stop right this second. Take the feelings out of the situation. He’s your best mate, for heaven’s sake!_

He decided to skip the cup of tea and made his way to the car. He threw the clothes in, walked to the phonebox not too far away, and warned his parents he would be home in about two and a half hours or so.  It was in his car that he was truly able to clear his mind of the last few months. He focused on the sound of the engine and the special feeling the sound gave him. He tried to mentally take apart the car, deciding on what bits he would do first; the mental work did a good job of distracting him from the current situation. He felt like building something, something useful. He missed feeling useful. The drive home went by too quickly for James’s liking, but he was happy to be home.  

The drive home went by too quickly for James’s liking, but he was happy to be home.   _I’m safe here,_ James thought, resting his head on the steering wheel. _As_ _long as they don’t ask any questions-_ He felt his thought severed by the feeling of his heart dropping to his boney arse. He was incredibly tense. _I could avoid questions on the phone but not when I’m here! They know just what to bloody say to find- Stop. Stop. Breathe_ , He ordered himself, forcing a deep inhale and exhale. He chuckled, thinking, J _eremy would say you could weasel out information... You just have to keep a level head, May. Tell them you wanted to visit on your birthday but your studies wouldn’t permit it._ James decided this was a perfectly reasonable excuse; one that would keep them off his back. Considering his birthday was earlier that week(four days ago to be exact), they probably would not question him. He decided that was the story he would stick with and left the car. The thrill he felt when he saw his younger brother, the sibling he was closest to, helped him forget the stress of explaining the situation to his parents. David May, against the norms of his family, welcomed his older brother with a warm embrace.  

“James! It’s fantastic to see you. Christ, you smell horrible!”

“Thanks, arse-face.”

“No really! You smell like alcohol and…” David inhaled loudly. “What is that?”

“Smoke?” James suggested.

“No,” David said slowly, a look of concentration on his face. “Anyway, you better go take a shower before mum gets a whiff of you, yeah? You know she doesn’t approve of all that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James said, walking past. “Where is she?”

“Garden. I’ll take your things. Go on! She’ll have a fit!” David said, grabbing James’s things and bringing them to their room.

James found pleasure in the hot water running through his hair and down his back. It greatly helped his tense muscles relax almost completely. Years seemed to have passed since he was this calm.  _ In the presence of those who love me. Had a good drive. Now I’m clean. Can’t get any better than this, _ he thought, massaging the shampoo into his scalp. James had not realised just how disgusting he was. His mind forced an image from the night before to flash before him; he saw Jeremy propped on top of him, one hand roaming James’s body, his tongue dancing down May’s throat. Forcing himself back into the present, James reached for the soap and scrubbed furiously at every area Jeremy had touched. He wanted to wash away the night before, however silly the idea might seem. A few moments of rough scrubbing and he decided to let it go. He felt sullied.  _ It’s not like you haven’t had sex before… Maybe it’s the way you’re treating the situation. MAYBE it’s because he is your best bloody mate- let it go _ , James thought, breathing slowly in and out. “Okay.” Turning off the water, James stepped onto the towel he had put on the floor and then began to dry himself. “Hang on,” he said quietly. He looked about the room in search for something to wear. He wasn’t about to put on filthy clothes.  **** Oh,  _ bugger. Only you could be this absent-minded, you utter pillock. _ Wrapping the towel around his waist, he peaked his head out of the room and looked around for any of the girls. He ran out, his hair dripping a trail of water on the carpet to his and David’s room.

“Oi!” his brother said, looking up from the train set he was fiddling with. “What do’ya mean by running in here half naked?”

“Nevermind that,” James said, grabbing a fresh change of clothes. “Where do you get off fiddling with my train set?”

“Mum said I could have it.”

“Well, Bugger off. It’s mine. And if I catch you messing with it again, I’ll beat you silly,” James said, turning around and raising an eyebrow at his brother. He buttoned his jeans and reached for his shirt.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Yeah. Eating gruel at every meal can have that effect.”

“Mum’s not gonna like that,” David said, sighing heavily. James smiled.

“She won’t be bothered. She probably won’t noticed. Now put my set away before I shove it up your arse.”

“Rude!” David mumbled, beginning to pick up the pieces of the set. “She left the toaster out for you, by the way. She didn’t believe you when you said you had breakfast.”

“You have to love mum,” James said, halfway out of the door by the time he finished his sentence. He looked carefully at the oh so familiar wallpaper and carpeted stairs. He had missed his home more than he had thought. It had been over two months since he had last visited, money being too tight to allow long drives. Plus, his Mark 1 Vauxhall Cavalier wasn’t in its best days anymore. Many afternoons saw James under the car, fiddling and searching for the source of a rattle or sputter.

As James passed the sitting room, he saw a couple of wrapped presents on the floor near the sofa. He was sure this was his, being as he had been away for both Christmas, as well as his birthday. After deciding to leave them be, knowing his mother would want to watch him open them, he made two slices of toast and popped the kettle on. It was not ten minutes later when his mother and younger sister, Sarah, joined him. Sarah and David were the only two of the four of the children that still lived at home. Both had jobs but couldn’t quite afford to move just yet.

“James! Why didn’t you tell me you got in, you little sod?! Can you make me a cup of tea while I wash my hands?”

“Of course,” he said, going to the fridge. “Sarah?”

“No thanks, I’m fine. How have you been?” She asked, walking over and giving him a half hug. He returned it.

“Don’t get dirt on me! And I’ve been insanely busy, but more on that later. You?”

“I can relate. Work is killing me,” Sarah said, washing her hands and then taking her seat. She was soon joined by James and their mother.

“I’m happy you’re both working hard,” Mrs. May said, sipping her tea. “How’re your studies going, James?”

“Not horribly. I’m happy to be nearly finished with them. Starting to write my dissertation,” James lied. 

“Lovely, lovely. Have you come up with a job for that degree?”

“Mum, don’t start,” Sarah said, a note of annoyance in her voice.

“I was going to talk about it later. After dad came in,” James said. He despised the way they knocked him for getting a musics degree. He could definitely understand their side, but they could not seem to understand his; music was the only thing that made him happy, really.

“Very well. Glad you finally decided to come down for a visit.”

“Mum,” Sarah said, now obviously aggravated. “Why not let James settle in before we bully him, yeah?”  James sent his sister a thankful glance.

“Right,” Mrs. May said, sipping her tea again. James did the same. He looked around the kitchen, searching for a topic that wouldn’t trigger an awkward situation. Thankfully, David chose that moment to come down the stairs and join them.

“Train’s back in the closet, mein führer,” he said. He looked at the three sitting at the table. “Should I leave?” 

“No, it’s fine,” Sarah said.

"Why are you all so quiet, then? Did you make tea without telling me? I see where I stand in this house,” David said, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove. James was thankful David lightened the mood. They talked until his mother decided to start on dinner. Around 12:30 they were joined by James May, Sr.  It wasn’t short after they sat down for their meal the phone rang. David ran into the sitting room to answer it.

“James!” he called. “It’s for you!”

“‘Scuse me,” James said getting up from the table. “Who is it?” James asked.

“Jeremy,” David said, offering the phone to James.

“Tell 'em I’m not here!” James whispered.

“He can probably hear you, you numpty!”

“Okay, fine,” James said, grabbing the phone and holding it to his chest. “Go back to the kitchen.” He watched David leave and put the phone to his ear. “Can’t talk,” he said simply. “Having dinner with the family.”

“James, I woke up and you were gone!”

“You seem to have trouble understanding that you are not my parent.”

“We need to talk-”

“Yes, maybe, but I am currently with my family. Fuck off,” he said, hanging up. He rejoined the family around the table.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” James said.

“Brief conversation, wasn’t it?” Mr. May said, taking a bite of potato.

“There wasn’t much to say. I seemed to have forgotten to tell Jeremy I was coming home.”

“Not very nice, James,” his mother said.

“I know. I apologised.” The conversation had flowed steadily onwards. After the meal, they moved to the sitting area, where James finally decided to tell them he was considering moving to London with Jeremy. He explained that Jeremy had offered to take care of the rent until James had managed to find a job, considering Clarkson would already have a well-paying one.

“What I don’t understand,” May Sr., started. “Is why you are moving to such an expensive place with Jeremy if you don’t have a promise of a job.”

“Well,” James said slowly. “Jeremy was thinking since he’ll have a pretty high position in the office, I might be able to work for them.”

“So, you’re not even using your degree to get a job, is that right?”

“Yeah see, I’ll work in the office and look for another job on the side. Hopefully a job involving music.”

“Sure,” his father said, looking away. “Like playing the harpsichord in a pub?”

“James,” said Mrs. May. Both looked to her. “Be nice,” she said simply. May the younger assumed knew she was talking to his father.  James was reminded of the amazing talent his parents had of making him feel phenomenally shitty about his choices.

_ It’s because they love you,  _ he told himself.  _ They only want what’s best, and all that rubbish. _

“Anyway,” his father said, motioning for Sarah to grab the wrapped boxes near her knee. “We have something for you. Christmas and birthday presents from all of us to you. Sarah, give that to James, would you?”

She did as she was told and gave the boxes James, who had been sitting with David on the sofa. His mother was in the other armchair.

“We hope you like them. Thought you’d like something useful.”

“You know me well,” James said.

“I’d hope so,” his father chuckled. James was pleased to have the tension broken. His nerves couldn’t have taken much more of the heavy fire. As for the gifts, he was appreciative but could not say he was properly excited: a magenta and purple shirt in one box, and an electric kettle in the other.

“This is fantastic. Thank you!”

“Jane told us to tell you she hopes you enjoy them. Did she call you?” Mrs. May asked.

“She did. Called on my birthday.” They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, James going with his father to the garage to help work on the car. Jumping from conversation to conversation, James had nearly forgotten how easy it was to talk to his father one-on-one in person.

“So, how are you and that Jeremy getting on?” he asked, rolling under the car. James paused from cleaning the front, wondering what he should tell his father. No way in hell was he telling him about last night.

“Strained from time to time, but overall nice. We coexist.”

“That’s good. It can be very difficult to live with a friend. I had lived with a good mate of mine when I was in my early twenties. Hated it.”

“I don’t mind it. He can be a right arse when he wants to be.”

“I’m sure he can say the same about you, James,” his father said. “I know I could.”

“Thanks, dad,” James said, a smile in his voice.

“And university isn’t too difficult?”

 

“It can be a bit busy from time to time. Aside from that, I don’t mind it. I can’t wait to finish.”   
  


“When’s that?”

 

“July.”

 

“Right, right. I see. So what has you so bothered?” May Sr. asked, sliding from under the car. He wiped oil on his shirt.

 

“Nothing. Give me your specs and I’ll clean them.”

 

“I don’t think that’s all true, is it James?” his father asked, handing his son the glasses. 

 

“What gave you that idea?”

 

“You came home. It was obviously a last minute decision, as you normally give us a few days notice."

 

“I wanted to come in for my birthday. I just assumed it was understood. ”

“Instead of getting clattered? Are you sure you’re my son?” He turned the key, starting the engine.  James chuckled again. “You haven’t spent a birthday in this house since you were 16.”

“Everything’s fine,” James said, handing his father the glasses.

“So it isn't with Jeremy or uni. Then what? Is it that Frater girl?"

"God, no."

"Right. Well, whatever it is, stop worrying so much. You look worse than Atlas, and he has the actual world on his shoulders,” his dad said, handing James the keys. “Right. No strange noises. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, let’s go clean up before tea.”

  
  


James went to bed well fed, and overall happy he decided to come home. He lay, staring at the ceiling and finally daring to think about the situation with Jeremy.

“David?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah? What do you want?” his brother answered from the other bed.

“Feel up to giving me your two cents?”

“Sure.”

“Alright. So I have a friend, and we see quite a bit of each other, yeah? Well, recently, I had started going out with a friend of this friend-”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t anything serious. Just a bit of shagging and dinner-”

“Mum would have an aneurysm if she heard you,” David said.

“I know, and I trust you won’t tell her. So, the friend of the friend and I decided to end it, and the friend seemed pretty relieved, yeah? Well, last night, we had… We did it. Yeah.”

“Blimey…”

“Right. And this is my best friend. I adore them.”

“Sounds like she feels the same way, James.” The use of a female pronoun threw James off for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

 

“Yeah. But the thing is, this friend really… Gets around, if you know what I mean. So I’m afraid they… Well, I’m afraid they used me.”

“Heavy stuff… But from what you’re telling me, she sounds like she’s interested in you. I mean, you said yourself that she was happy when you broke it off with the other friend.”

“Not happy. Relieved,” James corrected.

“Whatever. Is this Frater? Please tell me it’s not her. I didn’t like her much.”

“No. No, I talk to her at work, but we aren’t really good friends.”

“Good. Who is it?” David asked, sitting up and turning on the lamp in the middle of the bed.

“None of your business, arse-face. So, what should I do?”James said, sitting up as well.

“Do you like her back?”

“I told you I did.”

“Talk to her. When did this happen?”

“Last night, I told you,” James said. David looked like he was thinking the situation over.

“Where?”

“The flat,” James answered before he thought about it.

“What was the mood like when she left?” David asked, tying the strings to his plaid pyjama trousers.

“I don’t know. I had to leave as soon as I could.”

“You didn’t leave her at the flat, did you?” David joked, looking up.  James looked away. He could feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, but the fear of David’s reaction kept it there. 

“Stop with the third degree, yeah?”

“I just wanted to understand the situation, you bellend.”

“Okay, thanks. I think I’m going to go to sleep. G’night.”

“James, you fuck, look at me,” David said. By that time, the older sibling had already turned to the wall and had started pulling the covers over him. David walked over and sat on the end of James’s bed. “You know I’m not stupid, right? I can see you’re really bothered. Tell me why.”

“You’re a foetus.”

“You’re only two years older! Come on.”

“No,” James said. David put his hand on James’s arm and gave it a good shake.

“Arse-face! I’m you’re bleedin’ brother! We grew up together! I know you!” To this, James did not respond. He decided if he ignored his brother, the little gnat might leave him alone.

“Uh, James… Is it…. Are you afraid to tell me because IT IS Sarah?”

“No, David. I promise it isn’t Sarah.”

“Well, why are you so afraid to tell me? Is it… Is it Jeremy?” David asked slowly. James could not respond. David removed his hand. He was shocked that David would even suggest it. People didn’t talk about this, especially not his family. If they did, it was a joke.

“James?” No response. “James, is it Jeremy?” To this, James sat up and face his brother.

“How’d you know?”

“I see. Again, it may come as a shock to you, but I’m not stupid. You said you had to get out of the flat as soon as you could and didn’t tell me what you did with the person who slept over. You wouldn’t have to do jack shit if they lived with you. Just leave. Also, I feel like you would tell me if it had been a girl. Oh, and I’m your brother. I know you, you numpty. I sorta thought… Well, you are a bit… You know.”

“I don’t. What do you mean?” asked James, slightly offended. 

“Nothing.”

“The main reason I didn’t want to tell you about all of that’s because... Well, I’m your older brother, yeah? I wouldn’t want to trouble you with my personal life.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We’ve always been involved in each other’s personal lives.”

 

“Bad wording. I didn’t want to have you involved in my  _ romantic _ life. It’s not exactly a traditional… lifestyle. Right, thank you for the advice. Can we leave it at that?”

 

“You want to leave it at that because you know I have something to say about it, don’t you?”

 

“Don’t you always, David?” 

 

“Stop it. I can’t pretend to condone this, you know? I still… You know, love you, but I can’t agree with what you’re doing… Especially with the AID’s going around… You understand, right?” David asked. “I mean, I want nothing more for you than to be happy, yeah? But you do realise this is going to be really difficult, don’t you?” 

 

“Yeah, the thought may have crossed my mind.”

 

“Okay… So you like…. You like blokes, then? Just to reiterate.”

 

“I like both men and women,” James said, a note of exhaustion in his voice. 

“But you don’t, do you? You can’t like girls AND boys?”

“No, I definitely do, David. It’s possible. But you know that since you aren’t stupid.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Did you really know?” James asked.

“I had a feeling… It just feels strange to have it confirmed.”

“I see. Why do you seem so shocked?”

“I don’t know… I think it’s just sinking in. I still love you, you know?”

 

“You are such a girl,” James said. There was a small pause and he knew his brother was about to make a joke. “Leave it,” he said. David chuckled lightly, standing and walking back to his bed. 

 

“Okay, well, I’m going to sleep. G’night,  _ again _ .” James turned off the lamp and turned back to face the wall. “You won’t tell mum and dad, right?”

“‘Course not. Wouldn't want to send either of them to an early grave, now would I?”

“Right,” James said. Moments later, he heard David laugh. “What?” James asked, obviously slightly annoyed.

 

“Nothing,” David said. A few seconds of silence passed. “I was just trying to picture you trying to introduce Jeremy as your… You know… Your person. Picture that going down next Christmas!” David said with another small laugh. “I see dad turning sheet white and hitting the ground. Mum would probably say, “I always thought so-”   
  


“Why do you think it’s so obvious?!” 

 

“Not what I’m saying at all. I was just picturing all the ways they might react. In one, I pictured dad literally birthing a cow, hence why I laughed.”

 

“Fuck off. Now, for the third time, good night!”

 

“G’night, you grumpy mother-fucker.” 

 

The next day, he ate breakfast and packed his bags, leaving the house around noon. He had no idea what he would go home to find. He hoped to whatever gods may exist that Jeremy would be away from the flat.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

 

Let it be known I searched for quite some time and was not able to find any specific information on HIV testing in the 80’s. I’ve heard it was a 72 hour wait, hence why I wrote it. I try to keep this story as realistic as possible, up to a point. Also, James argues with himself. "The other voice" is just the conversation unfolding. I think we all have one. Warning: this chapter is incredibly sappy. The Notebook level of sappy. 

  
  
  


The drive back to Lancaster went too quickly for James’s taste. He could not shake the terrible feeling of foreboding and dread that sat on his abdomen. The entire way back consisted of James going through his options on the Jeremy situation. He foresaw three obstacles: his arrival, the conversation on where they now stand, and their future living arrangements. He decided to solve them all with one easy suggestion: “Pub?” A public place would be best for the conversation as they would have to avoid explicit terms, there would (probably) be no shouting, and they would have to discuss the situation in a relatively calm manner. Along with these perks, it would be a somewhat friendly suggestion. That would perfect; Jeremy would understand they could still be friends.

 

_But do you want that?_ James asked himself. _Have you not passed the point of no return? You shagged him, for heaven’s sake! You have admitted you have feelings for him… Could the friendship survive that? Would you be able to listen to him fuck girls through the walls of your flat?_ The thought of Jeremy having sex with someone else stabbed at James’s chest. For a moment, he contemplated where these feelings had come from. When had they developed? In his head, he retraced the whole experience, starting out the year before they moved. 

 

_Did you move in with him because you fancied him? No, definitely not. No. Did you fancy him when you started school?_ James hesitated only for a moment. _I don’t know… I was definitely enthralled by Sarah. I don’t think I thought of him in that way…_ The opposing side of his mind threw the vivid memory of him wanking to the sound of Jeremy having sex to the forefront of his mind. 

 

_Thanks for that_ , James responded. _Right… We can settle on ‘mild physical attraction’. I think it’s safe to say the feeling spanned from the beginning to end of my relationship with Sarah. When did feelings get thrown into the mix?_ It wasn’t a heartbeat later the answer became obvious. _When he helped you get over Sarah. That was it. He was uncharacteristically kind and helpful… Well, not helpful. That man is incapable of being helpful… But he tried, and that in itself was endearing, I guess. So why did you go with Paul?_

 

_You arsehole_ , said the opposing voice. _You know damn well why. Let’s revisit this again. HE. IS. YOU’RE. SODDING. FRIEND._

 

At this, the romantic side of his brain brought forth one of the many times he and Jeremy had watched a movie on the sofa and the flutter he would sometimes feel. The very same flutter James remembered actively trying to suppress. The next thing to flicker to his mind was the night he had first had sex with Paul, and how for just one moment, he had pictured Jeremy thrusting into him. He remembered how he had nearly called out Jeremy’s name. It was as if this side of James was saying, “Yes, but looook!”

 

_It’s not that simple,_ argued the logical voice. _This doesn’t mean Jeremy shares the same feelings. Yes, I know, you had sex. The argument still stands. We ARE talking about a man who would fuck anything not nailed to the ground._  James stopped himself. The last thought had stung more than he cared to admit. _So, this brings us back to the big question: Could you still live with him?_  James thought on this multiple times, not able to concentrate long enough to settle on a clear answer. Eventually, he decided to wait until the inevitable talk with Jeremy. 

 

Opening the door and grabbing his things from the back, James took a deep breath and made his way towards the door. _I_ _would bet this is the exact feeling prisoners had when walking to the guillotine,_  he thought. He wasn’t shocked to find the sitting room empty; it was only 10:30. He carried his things to his room and stored the clothes, going back into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea afterward. James noticed the bin contained the whiskey container, as well as Jeremy’s wine bottle. It wasn’t difficult to deduce Clarkson had done a great deal of drinking recently. James decided to chase away the building nerves with a hard drink. After finishing that, he grabbed a book and started on his tea. It was half past noon before Jeremy emerged from his room, bleary eyed and hair slightly more insane than usual. He didn’t seem surprised or even bothered by James’s presence. If anything, he seemed slightly annoyed.

 

“Look, I know I’m not your dad, but I had no idea where you had gone off to, hence why I called your parents,”  Jeremy said, making a cup of coffee. “I had no idea if you had left the house shitfaced or what. Could’ve been dead or something. Not that I’d give a shit.”

 

_He’s joking, James. Don’t let him irritate you,_ James thought.  He grunted in response. This was followed by a few moments of silence.

 

“Feel like going to the pub later?” James asked, trying too hard to sound casual and not nervous.

 

“I’ve had half my weight in alcohol last night. I don’t fancy going anywhere today, if you don’t mind.”

 

“No need to be a cunt, Clarkson.” This time, Jeremy grunted in response. James decided to give him some time to get out of the shitty mood he was obviously in. He went to his room and started on work that had been severely neglected. A couple of hours passed and James had finally finished. He read a few more chapters of his book and then decided to go soak in the bath. Opening the window and lighting a cigarette, he tried to relax in the warm water. James’s nerves had slowly returned to the twisted ball sitting on his midsection. He sat in the water until it had reached an uncomfortably cold temperature, which, realistically, hadn’t been too long. The open window allowed the freezing air to waft in. He dressed, put out his third cigarette, and half dried his now below shoulder-length hair with a towel. He walked into the main room to find Jeremy sitting on the floor in front of the table, paper in front of him. 

 

“Having fun?” James asked.

 

“Hardley. I need the outline by Tuesday,” Jeremy said without looking up. 

 

“You still have time.” 

 

“I’d rather have it done now,” he said simply.  

 

“Right. Well, I was thinking about going get a curry. I haven’t gone to that new Indian restaurant, and I'd like to go.”

 

“Why don’t you make that dream a reality?” Jeremy asked, still looking at his work. 

 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come with me, arsehole,” James said, taking a seat in the chair next to the sofa. 

 

“Not hungry. Go enjoy yourself.” 

 

“Clarkson, stop being a fuck face or I’ll punch you,” May said. “I’m offering you food. A simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed.” To this, Jeremy simply grunted. “We should probably talk, Clarkson. I think we need to.”

 

“No, thank you,” Jeremy said. 

 

"God in heaven, I’m dealing with a child. We ARE going to talk about it, Clarkson,” James said quietly. He was quickly losing the feeling of apprehension, which was being replaced with a strong feeling of aggravation. He got up and poured himself a glass of wine. He waited until he sat down to speak. “We can’t run from the other night. It happened, yeah? What do you want to happen now?” To this, Jeremy did not respond. He continued to write. With a flare of anger, James silently leaned over, grabbed the pen out of his hand, and threw across the room. Jeremy looked as if he was weighing out the good and bad consequences of killing James. May decided he didn’t want to be the only angry person in the room. Clarkson grabbed the small bag that laid by his side and took out another pen. James stood and started to lean towards the new pen. 

 

“If you try to grab this pen, I will stab you in the eye,” Jeremy said. James sat back down and made a small temple with his fingers. 

 

“Jeremy mother-fucking Clarkson, if you keep writing, we are no longer friends. The friendship is terminated here and now. I'm surely not going to fight for our friendship if you are going to be that way.  Is that what you want?”

 

“Obviously what you want,” Jeremy said quietly, still refusing to look up. 

 

“What? When did I say that?”

 

“You left,” Jeremy said simply. James couldn’t respond. His mouth opened and closed several times before Clarkson spoke again. “Why do we have to talk about this now?”

 

“It needs to be sorted out.”

 

“You are so OCD. You have to have everything sorted into its space. It bothers you to no end that we left the box you had put us in, doesn’t it?”

 

“All I want is to fix this, yeah? Can you please stop being a dick?” James asked, rubbing his eyes. He was getting really tired very quickly.  

 

“I have nothing to say.”

 

“Bullshit. You always have something to say.” 

 

“Well, not for _this_!” Jeremy shouted, throwing his pen at the wall. It hit with a loud crack that made James jump. 

 

“Okay,” James said quietly. “I hear you loud and clear. I’ll fuck off, then. Have your tantrum and then call me when you decide to grow up.” He stood, his hands shaking. James was absolutely livid. Halfway across the floor, Jeremy called after him. It was after the second call of his name did James turn around. 

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jeremy said, his voice void of anger. Something else had crept in; James identified it as fearful frustration. 

 

“I want you to tell me what you want. No jokes, no insults. I don’t want any of that right now. You are on incredibly thin ice, Clarkson,” James said. 

 

“Fine… What do you mean by ‘what do you want?’” Jeremy asked. He got up to sit on one side of the sofa. James returned to his seat. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to choose his words carefully. 

 

“The night before last, we had sex,” James said calmly. He was trying to bring his temper down to an even level. “What do you want to do about that?”

 

“What do you want?” Jeremy asked quietly. 

 

“I was going to decide after you told me what you wanted.”

 

“So you don’t care how we go about this?” Jeremy asked, finally making eye contact with James.

 

“I have a preferred outcome, yes, but I’m not going to throw a fit if I don’t have my way.” James waited for Jeremy to say something, but after a solid minute had passed, he realised Jeremy was waiting on him. “I know how I feel, Clarkson,” James said, and nearly laughed as the words escaped his mouth. _Bloody lie_ , he told himself. 

 

“I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s keep it on the track of ‘what will happen’.”

 

“Well, the two are related, aren’t they?” There was a pause. “Look, I hate talking about feelings as much as the next bloke but this should be discussed. Like it or not, feelings are a part of this situation. We can go get a pint, fart, and all that butch rubbish after, yeah?”

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“I asked you, didn’t I?”

 

“I don’t know, May,” Jeremy said frustratedly. James looked at him closely and noticed his hands were shaking. 

 

“I’m sorta… You know… Afraid,” James said slowly. He realised he would have to be the first one to open up. Jeremy Clarkson did not hold up well in situations in which he was the only vulnerable one. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Well, I don’t want you to say what I don’t want to hear, now don’t I?” James asked with a smile. He let out a small breath. 

“Fuck double negatives. Let’s do triple,” Jeremy said lightly. He smiled and looked away. “Sorry. No taking the piss.” He paused. “I’m just nervous and that’s how I… You know… Cope.” 

 

“Yes, I know. Okay, I did one. Your turn.”

 

“I’m afraid _you’re_  gonna say what I don’t want to hear,” Jeremy said, the small smile still on his face. “Bloody petrified, really.”

 

“What are you afraid to hear?”

 

“No, no. Your turn, May. But that’s a good question. What are YOU afraid to hear?”

 

“Bastard,” James said with a nervous chuckle. “I’m afraid you’re... I’m… I want to at least still be mates.” In the back of his head, James heard that voice ask _But can you handle that, James_? He hushed the voice. “ I don’t want that to have changed.”

 

“What do you mean by ' _at least_ sill be mates'?” Jeremy asked.

 

“Nope. You. What are you afraid of?” 

 

“Uh,” Jeremy said, looking at his hands. They were clasped tightly together; James could see Jeremy’s fingernails leaving deep crescents in his skin. He assumed this was to keep himself steady. “I was afraid you’d say we can’t be friends anymore. I thought you’d want to leave. That’s why I panicked when you weren’t here yesterday morning. I thought you were running away from it.”

 

“It?”

 

“You know… What we did…”

 

“Oh. Right,” James said. “I was, to be honest. I… I didn’t want to be…  Another of your one-offs,” James confessed, focusing on his hands. He knew his cheeks were beet-red now. 

 

“James,” Jeremy said lightly. May finally looked at Clarkson, who wore a flabbergasted expression on his face. James thought he might have seen one of  many expressions; flabbergasted was not one of them.   

 

“I didn’t take it as that, James… I mean, unless that’s what you want it to be.”

 

“You don’t want it to be, then?”

 

“James… You really are a thick bastard, do you know that?” Jeremy said. Apparently he was gaining the confidence James was quickly losing. “I… Yeah, I want to at least still be friends.”

 

“Now, don’t get angry at the suggestion,” James started. He tried now more than ever to choose his words carefully. “I just want to know where we stand and I don’t know how you feel, so… Would you like to be more than friends?” James asked slowly. His eyes had now fallen back to his shoes and were burning holes into them. 

 

“Do you?” Jeremy almost whispered. James found that odd, but couldn’t bring himself to look up. The fear clawed at his throat; his vocal cords felt completely shot. “James?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do want more than that. But if you can’t or don’t want to, I’d understand,” James said. 

 

“I think I'd like to try," Jeremy said. May almost laughed at how soppy they sounded. Jeremy must have realised it as well. He looked at his shoe and laughed lightly. It almost sounded like relief. "Come here,” Jeremy said, softer still. James was so shocked at this small command, he stood and walked over to the sofa, sitting on the opposite side.  Clarkson was avoiding the other man's eyes but closed the distance between them.  Jeremy took his shaking hand and placed it on James’s jaw, lifting it to allow their lips to meet. May was again taken aback. This too was not what he was expecting. Clarkson pulled away and had both hands on either side of James’s cheeks. He leant his forehead against May’s and let out a small sigh.

 

“You know how long I've waited for this, you shit?” Jeremy asked. 

 

“I'm sorry," James said.

 

“Well, you’ve always been slow,” Jeremy said with a small laugh. He exhaled shakily. He leaned in for another kiss, one that James was prepared for and matched. It was slow and careful. James was the first to slip his tongue against Jeremy’s. May buried his hands in Clarkson’s thick, brown hair. The two only broke away due to lack of air a few moments later. James leaned back and smiled at Jeremy.

 

“Well, how about that curry?” he asked softly. Jeremy smiled. 

 

“Only if you’re picking up. I’ll pay for it, I just don’t feel like moving.”

 

“Sounds good. I’ll order now. The usual?”

 

“If this place has it, yeah. On your way to the phone, would you mind sliding the blue pen back to me? I do _actually_ need to get this finished, you know,” Jeremy said smiling. 

 

The rest of the night went as it would normally: they sat on the sofa, had curry, and watched a film. At one point, Jeremy sat slightly closer to James than he normally did, cautiously placing his hand on top of May’s. James, caught off guard, had to fight the urge to pull away. It had only been a few months since his relationship with Sarah had ended, but they had stopped causal prolonged contact nearly five months ago. On top of this, James had never before held hands with another man. He was relatively familiar with the sexual side of a male-on-male relationship; the romantic portion was still new and slightly frightening. By the end of the film, Jeremy had abandoned the attempt of being sweet, and decided to use James’s lap as a foot rest.

 

“Go put on a new one!” he ordered James. “Let’s watch _E_ _ducating Rita._ That’s a good one.”

 

“Well, first, you have to get your great, big legs off me,” James said, lifting them and putting them on the floor. 

 

“I was comfortable!” Jeremy complained. 

 

“Secondly,” James started, ignoring him. “I have a lecture in the morning.”

 

“How much longer till you finish with all of that rubbish?”

 

“I finish in July.”

 

“Okay. I have to make the move to London soon. They want me to start working there full-time,” Jeremy said, standing. “I’ll probably have to make the move in a couple of months. Could you afford to live alone for a few months?”

 

“Not sure. I’m struggling as it is. Do you think you could convince them to let you keep emailing your articles? At least until July, of course. After that, I can move.”

 

“I promise nothing. I have to drive down next week. I’ll see if they allow it.”

 

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” James said, yawning and walking away from the sofa. Jeremy walked with him. 

 

“I’ll tell you as soon as I know. They want me to be more involved, hence why they are so adamant about me moving.”

 

“I see. I’m too tired to give a shit at the moment. Talk about it after the meeting, yeah?”

 

“Great. Good night, then,” Jeremy said, extending one arm and quickly taking it back. James had no idea how to respond, so he reacted with a similar motion. They looked at each other and started to smile, finding humour in the awkward situation. “Well, since you’re my… Since you’re my person now, would you mind a kiss?.. Or something?” Jeremy asked. James could only laugh at that. 

 

“Of course,” he said, planting a chaste kiss on the other man’s lips. Jeremy frowned.

 

“Well, that was useless.”

 

“What were you expecting? A snog session?”

 

“Are you offering?” Jeremy asked with a smile. 

 

“Good night, fat-head.”

 

“Good night, sweetie!” Clarkson said, a massive grin spread across his face. 

 

“Don’t start,” said James as he close his bedroom door behind him. 

  
  
  


 

“James!” 

 

“What?” he called from his room.

 

“Come sit in here with me! I’m so alone!”

 

“I’m reading!” James said, slightly annoyed. They had only been officially dating for two days and Jeremy was already working on his last nerve. He was happy things hadn’t changed too much. 

 

“Fine,” Jeremy said, opening the door. The sudden proximity of Clarkson’s voice made James jump. "I’ll come sit in here. I’ve got some writing to do, I’ll be quiet. Promise,” he said, sitting in the chair at James’s desk. 

 

“Right. Keep quiet and you can stay.” There was a single moment of silence after Jeremy had settled his writing things and turned to face the desk. He turned back around to face James. 

 

“Have you thought about living by yourself for a few months yet?” he asked. James signed.

 

“No, I haven’t.” 

 

“Okay, well don’t. I talked to them and they said I can still work from here for another few months. Not a day after July, though.”

 

“Perfect. I’m ecstatic,” James responded, not looking up from his book. 

 

“Right… You do remember what tomorrow is, do you?” Jeremy asked hesitantly. James raked his brain. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Remember last week when I told you we should get tested for the HIV?” he asked awkwardly. “Yes, that’s tomorrow.” 

 

“Just HIV, Clarkson, not ‘the HIV’. And yes, I remember. What time?”

 

“11:30.” 

 

“Fine,” James said simply, returning to his book. Jeremy turned back to face his writing, turning around to face James a few minutes later. 

 

“Fancy a film?”

 

“Not interested.” 

 

“James, I. AM. BORED!”

 

“Well, maybe if you’d do your bloody work, you wouldn’t be bored.”

 

“I have writer’s block!” Jeremy complained.

 

“I don’t give a toss what you do or have, Clarkson, but if you don’t shut up, I will actually hit you,” James said, finally looking up from his book. 

 

“Come on! Let’s go out. We can do something fun! Let’s go to the Sugar House! I’ll buy you a drink!” James found the last sentence to be the only tempting thing Jeremy had said. He thought on this for a minute. 

 

“Right. I’ll go. But you do realise I will eventually need some… Space,” James said, putting down his book.

 

“Since when have I ever given you space, May?” Jeremy asked, already on his feet. He gathered his writing materials from James’s desk. “Come on, you old woman!”

 

A night of drinking ended with them both completely pissed. James had insisted they slept in separate rooms, much to Jeremy’s disappointment; nothing had happened between them, except for a few sloppy kisses once they had made it home. The next day, James drove the pair of them to the centre for their test. James had to admit that once he walked into the sterile atmosphere, he felt the reality of the situation looming over him. He was nearly certain he hadn’t contracted anything from Paul. Although leaning on the promiscuous side, Paul WAS a sensible man. Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed to be thinking of the situation in a completely different light. He had chattered away on the trip to the centre and was almost completely silent on the way back. He was obviously nervous, making poor attempts at joking and poking fun of the situation, only to be reprimanded by James for lack of sensitivity. The silence that followed had lasted for a few hours after they had returned to the flat, only broken when James asked when they might get the results. 

 

“The bloke said 72 hours. We go for a follow-up on Saturday. Said it won’t take long.”

 

“Great.” That had been the end of their exchange. By the next afternoon, Jeremy had seemed to return to his old self. 

 

“James!” he yelled from outside the bedroom door. “Come sit with me! The news is about to start and I don’t want to be bored alone!” 

 

“No!” James shouted, letting his head fall into his hands. He desperately need to get some writing done. He only had a few more months of uni left; it was too close to the end to let it slip. 

 

“Come on! I’ve bought us some of that disgusting wine you like!” Jeremy yelled back. 

 

“You can’t keep bribing me with alcohol!” 

 

“James, please,” he said lowly. James sighed and stood from his desk. 

 

“You do realise you will have to be alone at some point,” he said, opening the door.

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just feeling… You know,” Jeremy said, scrunching his face and lifting his shoulders. “Strange.” For a moment, James nearly asked, _And is that my problem?_ before a small voice inside him answered, _Well, I suppose it is now._

 

“Okay, okay. I’ll pour the wine.” James said, walking past Jeremy. The other man smiled appreciatively. 

 

“Thanks.” 

 

A few drinks later and James was sitting on his side of the couch, Clarkson’s sitting closely and comfortably near James, his hand resting on the younger man’s upper thigh. James felt slightly trapped, but still somehow enjoyed Jeremy’s nearness; he especially enjoyed the hand on his thigh. His mind started to wander, offering obscene images that James barely tried to bat away. One image in particular (Jeremy’s mouth on James’s cock, blue eyes meeting blue eyes) made his penis swell ever so slightly. The more he thought about it, the more constricting his pyjama shorts felt. He shifted, slightly hoping Jeremy would notice. Of course he didn’t, more absorbed in the day's news. James, growing slightly more desperate, let his hand fall gently on the other man’s thigh. Jeremy turned to look at him, and smiled, then turned back to the television. Deciding on one more attempt before aborting the mission, James moved his hand slowly up and down Jeremy’s bare leg, running a finger gently against th hair covered skin. Within moments, May saw a small stirring in Jeremy’s crotch area, followed by the clearing of Clarkson’s throat. James looked up, expecting a kiss. He was shocked when Clarkson stood. 

 

“Right. I think I’m going to go on to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jeremy said, taking his glass and putting it in the sink. 

 

“Pardon?” was all James could get out.

 

“I think I’ll head off to bed. Getting a little tired.”

 

“Wait. Why? I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you,” James said, slightly stumbling over his words.The embarrassment started to flood him. “I just thought you’d… I thought you were ready, considering…” 

 

“No, no. I think I am. I just… This whole AIDs test has-“

 

“Wait, sorry? Jeremy, you were practically begging for me to sleep with you the night after the pub. Why are you scared now?” 

 

“I don’t feel like talking about it, James. Can we just drop it?” 

 

“Hold on- no. I can understand wanting to wait, but why all of the signals? You were the one who bought wine and cuddled up to me!” James said, getting slightly annoyed. He had a long day and was in no mood for games. The sexual tension was starting to get on his nerves.

 

“Jesus, someone is cross-“ 

 

“I AM cross, you annoying bastard! I ask for some peace and bloody quiet and you refuse to let me have it! ‘Come on, James! I’m lonely, I’ve brought alcohol! Oh, I’ll get you pissed, put my hand on your thigh and practically sit on you, but that doesn’t mean a thing!'”

 

“You have plenty of time to yourself!” 

 

“When?!” James shouted. 

 

“I give you nights!” 

 

“Right, well, I’m going to take what little time I have,” James said, standing. “Good night.” He shut his bedroom door, not quite slamming it. Nearly an hour later, there was a knock. 

 

“I don’t feel like talking,” he said simply. He was just drifting off when Jeremy had knocked.

 

“May, can I come in?”

 

“No.”

 

“Thanks,” Jeremy said, opening the door slightly. James was in one of his many t shirts and a baggy pair of shorts, under the warm covers of his bed. He had been reading by the light of his bedside lamp. 

 

“You see, when I answered ‘no’, that meant ‘don’t come in’. Sorry if you misunderstood.”

 

“I’m sorry I led you on. I’m nervous, you know. Just trying to be careful.”

 

“For the first time in your life,” James said, putting his book on the table. “I understand what you're saying. I will admit, I snapped too easily. I'm sorry, but you don’t seem to understand that I need my space, Clarkson. Relationship or not, I need some alone time, yeah?” Jeremy nodded at this and began to approach the bed. “That’s the exact opposite of space.”

 

“I know, I know,” Jeremy said. “I’ll leave you be.” He leaned down and kissed James’s forehead. “Good night.”

 

“G’night,” James said, kissing Jermey's cheek and watching him leave. He turned out the light and stared at the ceiling before drifting off again. 

  
  


When Saturday finally rolled round, Jeremy was obviously anxious. James tried his best to calm him, stroking his hand the entire ride. He decided it better that Jeremy drove, considering the time behind the wheel would distract him. It perplexed James that Jeremy was much more concerned about these results than he was. It wasn’t until he was waiting in the office, Jeremy waiting outside for his own appointment as to not appear suspicious, that he realised a positive test was a death sentence. He fought to remember if he had ever had unprotected sex. Of course he had at some point, but would he have to pay for the rest of his life for a few minute’s mistake? The relief of a negative test result made his body go weak, the fear washing away. Once Jeremy had received his negative test results, the two got into Jeremy’s car, elation filling both of them. 

 

“Feel good. We should definitely do something fun,” Jeremy said, hands lightly grasping the wheel.

 

“Curry and a film?” James suggested. 

 

“Noooo. We do that all the time. Something fun!”

 

“We do it ’cause IT IS fun, I thought. What about the pub?”

 

“No, we do that too.” Jeremy said, his face scrunching up. 

 

“Why don’t we go home and try to erase our fingerprints with battery acid? That’s something I’ve never tried.”

 

“Too messy,” Jeremy said, a light smile on his face. “Why don’t we get some nice wine and listen to some music?” 

 

“We could do that any evening,” James said. “How is that special?” 

 

“We’ve never done it before, have we?” 

 

“Right, fine, I give up. Go to the liquor store a few blocks over.” A few moments of silence passed. “Are we going to drink all day? It’s only past noon. I don’t know about you, but I would rather hold off for a bit.” 

 

“Yeah… Maybe I can edit one of my columns,” Jeremy said, one hand on the wheel and the other lighting the cigarette now between his lips. He offered one to James, who accepted. “You can… I don’t know, work on a model aeroplane or something. Whatever the hell it is you do.” James was shocked that Jeremy would suggest doing things separately. 

 

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’ll make us something to eat, yeah?”

 

“Yesss,” Jeremy drawled excitedly. “Something quick, preferably. I’m starving.” 

 

“Toast with marmite?”

 

“Perfect.”

  
  


They made it back to the flat, put the wine in the refrigerator, had lunch, and went their separate ways. James was brought out from his room a few hours when Jeremy called him from the kitchen, from which a burnt smell was emitting. Jeremy had decided to make a chicken casserole, which, aside form the slightly crispy and burnt taste, wasn’t half bad. They ate dinner dressed in their pyjamas. Following the meal, they made their way to Jeremy’s room. James had set the bottle of wine on the desk and grabbed them each a glass full, sitting on the floor. He let his back and head rest against the wall while Jeremy chose which album to play. 

 

“‘Doobie Brothers’?” Jeremy suggested.

 

“No.”

 

“‘Bee Gees’?” 

 

“No.”

 

“‘Rolling Stones’?” 

 

“Which album?” James asked, his eyes making contact with Jeremy’s. 

 

“ _Some Girls_.” 

 

“Sounds nice. Put it on and get your arse over here,”  James ordered. Jeremy obeyed. Halfway through the first song, he let his head rest against James. A bit later, he moved both of their drinks(with mild protestation from James) and pulled May into his arms. 

 

“You are an arse,” James said, trying to pull away. They had fallen over, but Jeremy was refusing to let him go. May struggled for a moment to no avail, deciding finally that he wasn’t too uncomfortable.

 

“Why aren’t we on the bed?” Jeremy asked. 

 

“Didn’t want to spill wine,” James answered. 

 

“Get your boney arse up here,” Clarkson said, tapping the younger man. Once they were both on the bed, Jeremy pulled James closer to him. 

 

“You are a great, big softie,” James said, trying to make a little space between them, but failing. 

 

“Yes, and if you tell anyone, they won’t believe you.” James could feel Jeremy’s smile against his forehead, followed by a soft kiss. Clarkson placed his hand under James’s chin, lifting it to gain access to his lips. James still had a strange feeling about kissing his best friend, but it was chanced away when the thought _boyfriend_ corrected him. He put his hand in Jeremy’s hair, lightly grabbing a handful and pulling softly. He took a well needed breath and looked into Clarkson’s blue eyes.His other hand traced from Jeremy’s shoulders down his back and eventually rested on his hip. He drew him in for another kiss, their tongues meeting hungrily. Jeremy was the one to break this one. 

 

“Right,” he breathed. “That was nice. I’m sick of this album. Why don’t we listen to some 'Doobie Brothers', yeah?” he asked pulling away. James was confused and slightly irritated he was in this position again. He was not one to let his sexual urges determine his mood, but the teasing was starting to grate him.

 

“Clarkson, do you have a problem?”

 

“What’s that?” Jeremy asked looking at his records.

 

“Why do you keep doing that? And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” James laid flat on his back staring at the ceiling, waiting for a response. There was a sigh. 

 

“Well, you seem to think that what we did was just another shag for me. Or at least, that’s what you said, I think. I was going to wait a bit before I… Went for it… Don’t want you to think you’re another one-off.” James sat up slowly, considering this. 

 

“I’m shocked you’d even think of that.” Jeremy chuckled.

 

“I’m not a complete arse, May,” he said, looking up. He put the record playing and rejoined James on the bed. May let his hand trace Jeremy’s jawline. 

 

“Nearly. I thought it was obvious it wasn't a one-night-stand when we started dating.” Jeremy smiled. Soon after, they were in the middle of an intense snog, Clarkson letting his hands travel up May’s t shirt, brushing first over the flat stomach and soon over to the chest. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb over James’s nipple, and the younger man arched his back slightly. Moments later he manoeuvred onto Jeremy, straddling his hips. He let there hips grind together, causing a moan from Jeremy. His hands flew to May’s hips. 

 

“You can say no, but would you like for me to grab the condoms and such from my room?” 

 

“Sure,” Jeremy said. His voice betrayed him; May knew Clarkson was nervous. He laid a small kiss on his lips and said, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

“James, I’ve spent too long imagining what we could be doing. I don’t want to waste anymore time,” He said. “Come on, up you get!” 

 

“God in heaven, calm down,” James said, smiling. “We aren’t teenagers!” 

 

“You are,” Jeremy called. James made his way through the door and was in his room, grabbing a condom and lubricant. 

 

“I’m 21.”

 

“I feel like a paedophile!” 

 

“Shut up,” James said, reentering the room and shutting the door. He climbed on the bed and started taking off his shirt and then helping Jeremy take off his. 

 

“Controlling… That’s sexy!” Jeremy said, obviously trying to make a joke. This time, it was his deep red cheeks that showed he wasn’t the coolest cucumber. James once again straddled Jeremy and silenced him with a crushing kiss. Clarkson moved his hands back to James’s hips, and let them make their way past the elastic of the pyjamas to cup May’s arse. This earned a small moan from James, and he thrust into whatever contact he could make. Jeremy smiled at his eagerness. May kissed him and let his lips trail from Clarkson’s jawline to his neck, gently sucking on the sensitive skin. A small one escaped Jeremy’s mouth, going straight to James’s cock. He let his hand trail behind him over the other man’s arms (his hands now properly groping James’s bottom), and started to fondle Jeremy through his shorts; he started with light rubbing which grew into more passionate fondling. He moved his legs to one side of Jeremy, kissing his way up from Clarkson’s chest to his ear. 

 

“Would you like to get to it, then?”James asked, making a poor effort to sound sexy. Jeremy laughed.

 

“Yeah, James. I’d like to ‘get to it’.” James chuckled, taking off his pants. “Say, James,” He said, taking off his pants. “I… I haven’t done… I don’t want to be the girl…”

 

“Shut up, Clarkson. Don’t worry about it, you won’t be if you don’t want to be,” James said as Clarkson moved from the foot of the bed to where James was laid. He grasped James’s knees, legs already spread apart to allow Jeremy access. 

 

“You have no shame,” Jeremy chuckled. James smiled. 

 

“‘Course not.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Jeremy was about the same size as Paul in the downstairs area. He was slightly thicker. “And it doesn’t make you the girl,” James said. Jeremy wouldn’t let him get another word out. His lips trailed down from May’s lips to his neck. With guidance, the lips lightly sucked on that area of James’s neck right above his left collarbone that made him see stars. His hips thrusted upward, making contact with Jeremy’s groin. Removing his lips, James grabbed the lube and put a light coat on his cock, hoping the act wouldn’t freak out Jeremy. It hadn’t apparently, as a second later, the older man returned between James’s legs and grinding against him. Both growing increasingly sweaty and breathing like Secretariat after a race. He could think of nothing else as Jeremy increased the power behind his thrusts. A few more thrusts and Jeremy had to stop, quickly sitting on his heels and squeezing his eyes close. 

 

“One second,” he whispered. “Got a little too close for comfort,” he said after a moment had passed. He held the base of his cock firmly in his hand. The sight alone nearly made James come. A few breaths later, it was safe to say they were a safer distance away from the edge.

 

“James? Could we try…” Jeremy asked, making an obscene gesticulation with his hands. James couldn’t help but laugh. 

 

“Yeah, Jeremy. Here,” he said, offering him the bottle of lube. “We have to start slow. Put some on your fingers, yeah?” After doing what he was told, Jeremy looked to James for more instructions. This alone nearly made May laugh. “Can you guess what to do next?” James asked. Jeremy smiled. 

 

“Yeah, I think I can figure it out.” With one hand supporting himself, Jeremy let one of his fingers start to massage the sensitive ring of muscles. James breathed heavily, trying to keep calm and relax. One hand gripped the pillow under his head, the other on his cock. He bit his lip when Jeremy finally felt comfortable enough to enter him. A few thrusts after, a second finger was added and James fought to control his breath. 

 

“Okay?” Jeremy asked. James nodded, his eyes screwing shut when the third finger was added. He moaned, more out of pain then pleasure. 

 

“More lubricant,” he said, barely above a whisper. Jeremy immediately withdrew and did as he was told. Afterwards, he added the two fingers and built a rhythem, working his way back up to three. James had never had so much time spent on preparation and he felt weak, his knees shaking. He was painfully hard. “Please,” he silently begged. Jeremy arched an eyebrow. 

 

“Please what?” he asked. 

 

“You aren’t going to make me say it,” James said breathily. 

 

“All right, have it your way,” Jeremy said, pulling out from James. May could not control the pitiful whine that left him at the loss of contact. “Oh, you want me to penetrate you, is that it?” 

 

“You arsehole.”

 

“Now, now,” Jeremy said, leaning back on his knees. He opened the packet and put on the condom. “No need to be rude.” He lubed up and leaned into James, supporting himself with one arm. He grabbed his cock and rubbed the head against James’s entrance. May moaned, mouth falling open and quickly closing shut as Jeremy slowly entered him. Both arms on either side of James’s head, Clarkson leaned in, breathing heavily into his neck. 

 

“Don’t move,” James bit out. His hands were on Jeremy’s sides, shaking profusely. “Please don’t move.”

 

“Oh, Christ,” Jeremy whispered. A few moments later, James moved his hips, signaling he was ready for Jeremy. Soon, Clarkson had built an even pace, eliciting moans from the both of them. He let his head fall into the crook of May’s neck, his tongue trailed the sensitive skin. James moaned louder. It wasn’t until Jeremy almost completely pulled out and slammed back in did James actually call out; the noise was a strange combination of a scream and a moan, turning into a loud strangled cry. Jeremy started a punishing pace.

 

“Come for me, James. God, I need you. Come for me.”

 

“God!” James yelled. His body quivered and convulsed, tightening around Jeremy. A few more thrusts and Jeremy was there. He collapsed on James, their heads resting against the crook of each other's necks. May saw stars, his body still shaking. They held each other, sweaty chests rising and falling out of sync. A few minutes after the breathing had calmed and Jeremy could gather enough strength, he pulled out of James, eliciting a small whimper. He left for a moment to throw away the condom and grab a wet flannel for James. After James was clean, he was going to ask, “Are you the type to cuddle after sex?” but his question had been answered when Jeremy pulled him closer.

 

“You’re still shaking,” he whispered groggily into James’s ear. 

 

“Shut up.” It wasn’t long after James was nearly dozing off. “Would you like for me to go back to my room?”

 

“Hmmm? Why would I want that?” Jeremy asked, half asleep. James only burrowed deeper into the other man’s chest, falling asleep soon after.

  
  


James struggled with the relationship at first; friends to lovers was not an easy transition. He and Jeremy had many squabbles about personal space, a concept Clarkson was obviously unfamiliar with. It was weeks until they settled into some sort of rhythm. Occasionally, one would sleep in the other’s room, but most nights were spent in their separate rooms. 

 

With the new relationship, work, university, and being generally content, the months started to tumbled by for James. It wasn’t too long before he and Jeremy drove down to London to see the flat they had decided on. It was clean and in their price range; the only negative side to the new flat was the rough area nearby. The boys did their best to move their things gradually, but when it was nearly time for the move, they were still ages away from being finished. It took both cars to transport the rest of their materials. James went back for the graduation ceremony, going as far as to cut his shoulder length hair for the event(against Jeremy’s wishes). He hated short hair, but felt it was appropriate for the ceremony. He would let it grow back, of course. July came and went, and before he knew it, they were unpacking their boxes. James had gotten a week job as a records keeper in a nearby hospital and a job as a Sunday columnist for the newspaper Jeremy was working for. The hours were more demanding than those of university, but he was happy to finally be finished with his studies. James felt like a real person for the first time. 

 

“News and wine?” Jeremy would ask almost every evening. Of course, James would agree. After moving into the new flat, the two of them had sex nearly two to three times a week. By the time November had rolled around, it had decreased to once or twice, if at all. It had slipped out of the “New Relationship” category into “New, but the Eight Year Friendship Prepared Me for This, So I’m Relatively Comfortable” phase. Both James and Jeremy had to fight their parents to leave them be for Christmas, compromising on spending the eve of the eve, as well as the morning of the eve of Christmas with their separate families. Christmas Eve and day would be spent with each other. The night started off with a fine wine and “The Guns of Navarone”. They weren’t halfway through the film when Jeremy started to lightly drag his fingers up and down James’s arm. Not long after, they were in the bedroom, James ridding Jeremy and calling his name. The last few times, sex had only been that; they were both normally too tired or too busy to take their time. This time was somehow different: they made love. Jeremy flipped them and entered James roughly.

 

“Look at me,” Jeremy said, panting. Blue eyes met blue eyes, one pair finding it slightly more difficult to stay open. For the first time in his life, James cried after sex without knowing what had triggered it. Jeremy only held him and explained that it meant nothing, that it happened to everyone at some point or another. This did little to comfort James but he eventually fell asleep in Jeremy’s arms. He woke up hours later with a renewed feeling, a nice sense of warmth spread through him. He moved even closer to Jeremy.

 

“Good morning,” Jeremy mumbled. 

 

“Happy Christmas,” James said groggily.

 

“Shut up.” Jeremy was not exactly full of Christmas spirit, but James made up for the both of them. He adored Christmas.  Once they were both properly awake, they decided to share a shower; May was washing his hair when he felt Clarkson’s long, warm, wet arms wrap around his waist. 

 

“Love you,” he said into James's skin. It was muffled but understandable. James smiled and didn’t bother turning around. 

 

“Love you too.” 

 

Gifts were exchanged and dinner was had, followed by lager and a 1,000 piece puzzle. The entire evening was calm and serene. They spent the night in James's room. Jeremy's arm was draped over May's side, holding them close together. James couldn’t have asked for better company or a better Christmas.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Right. A few hours (weeks) late... Whelp, better late than never. Please feel free to comment suggestions. Enjoy!

“James!” Jeremy whined. James didn’t look up from his puzzle.

“I’d rather not.”

“It’s our first New Years in London! Please stop being boring for just one evening!”

You can go, I’m not stopping you. Who’s going? Andy?”

“Yes.”

“Well, go! I’ll sit here and watch the count down on the telly,” James said, looking across the table to Jeremy. “Maybe I’ll see you. I’ll let you know,” he said, returning to his spitfire puzzle. Jeremy stood and walked behind James’s chair, wrapping his arm around May’s chest. He laid his forehead on the younger man’s shoulder.

“Please come with me. I want you there. We can go drinking and dancing after.”

“Don’t be so soft.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” Jeremy asked, lifting his head. James genuinely had no idea; the idea just did not appeal to him. He explained this to Jeremy, who sighed dramatically. “Please, James! Do something interesting for once in your life!”

“We go out nearly every week!”

“Yes, but it’s New Years and I want to be with other people!” Jeremy bellowed, once again burying his face in James’s shoulder. May sighed.

“All right, arsehole. I’ll go, but I’m not staying out long. Just a bit passed midnight.”

“But that’s no-“

“Traffic will be ridiculous, and wherever we go will be full to the gunwales. I’m not staying out late.” Jeremy stood and walked over to the phone, dialling Andy.

The evening was miserable, in James’s opinion. He tried to at least look like he was enjoying himself for Jeremy, but spent almost every minute wishing he was in the warm, quiet solitude of his bedroom. Much to his annoyance, Jeremy and Andy had decided thirty minutes passed midnight was much too early to go home. Four hours later, James and Jeremy helped each other back to their flat, both too blind drunk to walk straight. James had drank hoping it would help him loosen up, but all it had done was make the ground move and his head hurt. He knew they’d feel it tomorrow.

When Monday rolled around, James found it harder than normal to leave the bed. He pulled away from Jeremy’s arm to snooze the alarm, returning to the warmth of the other man after. He felt Jeremy place a sleepy kiss on the back of his neck, the heat from his bare skin pressed against May’s back. A feeling of content flooded James. He thought of all the wonderful things he could do if he stayed home, rather than going to a job he hated.

He had gotten the job of records keeper at a local hospital, but loathed every moment he was there. The people were nice enough, but the work was tedious and boring. On top of that, he wrote a Sunday column for Jeremy’s magazine. Of course he preferred the writing job, but Jeremy couldn’t quite make it a full-time one. It had already been a massive favour to have James on at all. After a bit of mental preparation, James finally rolled out of bed and padded over to the clothes he had laid out on the chair the night before. He continued to list reasons why he needed this job.

“Come back to bed, James,” Jeremy said groggily.

“Can’t. You should be getting up soon, too.”

“What time is it?”

“Half passed seven.”

“Fuck off. I have an hour,” Jeremy mumbled, letting his head hit the pillow. James walked over to the bed and kissed Jeremy on the forehead. “That was rubbish,” Clarkson said, grabbing May lightly behind the neck and pulling him into a kiss. “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” James said smiling. He left their flat, the smile still spread on his face.

This exchange had become part of their daily routine, one James had grown to love. It was slightly altered when the 16th had rolled around. James was surprised to find Jeremy remembered his birthday and mentioned it in there farewells. Clarkson sat up in bed, supporting himself with his arms. James had to look away, for fear a certain organ would leap to attention at the sight. Jeremy’s dark hair was tousled and his chest bare, revealing the dark crop of light hair that covered his pale skin.

“Excited for tonight?” Jeremy asked, a trace of sin in his voice. _Oh my_ , James thought.

“Why would I be? What are we doing?” James asked, coming to sit by Jeremy’s feet.

“Whatever you want,” Clarkson responded, pulling James to rest between his legs. _Good God in his heaven_ , James thought. They had discussed, for the most part, how they would celebrate. James had expressed some interest in a bit of rough sex and being dominated, which Jeremy said that was all he needed to know. The thought of what Clarkson might do flashed before James. He tried to swallow quietly, his throat suddenly becoming very dry. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” 

“How’d you remember?”

“Well have SOME faith in me,” Jeremy said with fake indignation. He paused. “We talked about this yesterday, you moronic twit. My memory isn’t that short-term.”

“Ahhh, I see,” James said. “Okay. Pub and sex?”

“You’re the birthday boy,” Jeremy said smiling, leaning in for a quick kiss. James prolonged it, putting his hand in Clarkson’s hair and sliding their lips together. The kiss heated quickly, escalating to James straddling Jeremy, his hands on both sides of the other man’s face. His trousers were rapidly becoming too confining. Jeremy broke away, breathless. “I hate to be the responsible one, but don’t you have a job to go to?” For a solid moment, May considered being a little late for work. “We’ll pick up where we left off. Promise.” Jeremy said, a hand on James’s face. He put one last, chaste kiss on the younger man’s lips. “Have a nice day, love.”

The day seemed to drag on much longer than normal, and the thoughts of the night ahead flashing before him did not help. When it was finally time to leave, James more or less ran out of the building. Going back to the flat, he changed and waited for Jeremy to get home from the office. It wasn’t an hour later Clarkson walked through the door, taking off his black jacket and setting it on the table.

“For you,” he said, handing James a package. “You are incredibly difficult to buy for.”

“Not really,” James said, starting to open it. “But the thought is appreciated.” He was excited to find a new copy of _Where Eagles Dare_ (the tape had come out of the last copy and neither of them was able to repair it) and a 1,000 piece puzzle of a small Honda bike.

“Oh, and I got you this rubbish,” Jeremy said, walking over to a cabinet and moving things around to pull out a bottle of James’s favourite wine.

“Ah, yeah!” James said, a smile spread across his face. He stood and took the bottle from Jeremy, looking at it excitedly. The older man grabbed it from him and put it on the table, putting his hands on May’s waist. James smiled and moved his hands to Jeremy's shoulders as Clarkson pulled him into a small kiss.

“Happy?”

“Very,” James said, kissing him. A few minutes later, the two were interrupted by a phone call James knew would be from his parents. He tried to make it as brief as possible, thanking them for the birthday wishes and telling them he was already late for some plans he had made. He turned to find Jeremy putting his jacket back on over his white button up.

“Well? Ready for the pub?”

“Sure. Who’s driving?”

“You can. I think you’ll like the car they have me driving this week. Come on, Slow!”

“You’re wearing that?”

“Well, yeah,” Jeremy said, looking down at his clothes and then to James, who was clad in an aeroplane t-shirt and jeans. “Why? Too nice?”

“No, no. Just didn’t know if you wanted to put on something more comfortable,” James said, pulling on his coat. “I like it."

“Good. Now come on, come on,” Clarkson ordered, slapping May’s bottom before the door was open. “Looking forward to that,” James heard Jeremy whisper. He smiled at the thought. James had decided to go to a pub ten minutes away from their flat. It was a loud place; and after a meal, some drinks, a bit of James dancing (horribly), and a few more drinks, Jeremy decided it was time for them to leave. Once on the road, Clarkson let his right hand casually rest on James’s leg, slowly traveling to his upper thigh and resting right below his hip. They were talking about the new car Jeremy was testing, and James was finding it increasingly difficult to think straight. He knew Clarkson was playing a game; he knew the other man wanted to slowly undo him, and this was the start of it. James was not going to protest. Whenever it was James’s turn to speak, Clarkson would move his hand slowly, once spreading James’s legs apart slightly. The next time May spoke, he let his hand slowly move to James’s inner thigh. Mid sentence, May paused, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. He wouldn’t let this bellend win that easily.

“Sorry, and?” Clarkson asked, softly kneading May’s inner thigh. His hand was oh so close to James’s slowly inflating cock.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s a little too noisy for my taste-“ he was cut off when Jeremy moved his hand from the inner thigh, lightly over James’s cock, and back to the thigh. “You do realise you’re going to make up crash?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know damn well." Jeremy repeated the motion form a moment ago and May cleared his throat again.

“We’re nearly home. Do you like dirty talk?” Jeremy asked as if he were asking about the weather. May was taken aback. He felt his face heat up a little.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

“Lovely,” Jeremy said looking out the window. His hand was still working the younger man’s thigh. “How much longer do we have?”

“Around five minutes.”

“Oh no, that won’t do at all. I don’t think I can wait that long,” Jeremy said. In the corner of his eye, James saw Clarkson touch himself over his trousers. James forced his eyes on the road. “I don’t think I can wait. No, no, not with all the things I have planned for you.” James mouth went dry and nearly fell open. “Do you want me to tell you a few things, or will that spoil it for you?”

“No, no,” James said quickly. “Please do.”

“I was going to start by teasing you. Lay you on the bed, maybe tie your arms to the head board. I know how you love that,” Jeremy said quietly. James’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Clarkson kept his hand still on May's leg, apparently deciding words were enough. "Kiss you a bit. I would have taken your shirt off by then, but that’s it. I’d kiss down your body, all the way to your waist. Later, I’d take off all of you clothes and leave you there naked so I could look at you for a bit. Admire it. Then I’d take you. Roughly.”

“Christ,” James whispered, trying to keep his voice steady.

“But don’t worry, I won’t just fuck you. I intend to have a bit of fun before I let you come. But I don’t want to tell you all of your birthday surprises! How does it sound so far?”

“Bloody fantastic,” James said.

“How much longer do we have?”

“Nearly there.”

“You, or us?” Jeremy said smiling. James laughed. “I’m giving you two minutes exactly before I unzip my trousers and have a wank.” Thankfully, they made it back a with nearly thirty seconds to spare. James opened the door as quickly as he could, turning on the lights and hearing Jeremy close the door behind them. A fraction of a second later, Jeremy slammed him against the wall and crushed their lips together, kissing him passionately. James saw stars for a moment, but wrapped his arms around Jeremy. “You do want to play rough, I’m assuming,” Jeremy asked breathlessly.

“Yes, god in-” was all James had a chance to say. One of his legs was wrapped around the other man, trying to gain friction. Clarkson moved his lips to May’s throat, kissing that place that drove him mad and thrusting their hips together. James let out a moan at the contact. Jeremy broke away to take off James’s shirt, roughly slapping May’s clothed thigh when he tried to take off Jeremy’s jacket.

“No. I don’t want you to lift a finger. Got it?” he asked, thrusting into James again. May only nodded helplessly. “Good. Now get your arse in that bedroom,” Jeremy said. James did so quickly. Everything Jeremy had promised soon followed: he used one of his scarves to tie James’s hands to the head board, teased him a bit, and admired his flushed, naked body. The only clothing Jeremy had shed at that point was his jacket; his button-down white shirt clung to his sweaty body, his erection obvious from under his jeans. James lay on the bed, waiting and breathing heavily. Slowly, Jeremy moved in between James’s bare thighs and kissed him softly on the lips, the throat, and trailed it down to his waist again. He avoided the area James wanted his lips so desperately, instead kissing James’s inner thighs and hips. May moaned pitifully. 

“Patience. You like it slow, don’t you?” Jeremy asked, smiling wickedly. He stood to take off his jeans and pants excruciatingly slowly, James watching every movement with increasing frustration. Clarkson grabbed the lube and a condom, placing them on a corner of the bed. He leaned down and sucked on James’s earlobe, gently biting it. “I’m going to make you beg for me to fuck you,” he whispered. James moaned again lightly. Little did Jeremy know, he wasn’t a far shot from begging as it was. Clarkson kissed May’s forehead and then leaned back on his knees and heels. He watched as Jeremy spit into his hand and began to unhurriedly stroke himself. May deciding the view alone was nearly worth the wait. The other man’s eyes were closed shut and he let out shallow breaths from his open mouth. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

“God, yes.”

“I’m picturing you sucking me. Oh, James. Picturing you in front of me on your knees, taking me in your mouth. Fuck. James,” Jeremy moaned.

“Let me,” James said simply. He needed some contact soon.

“You want it?” Jeremy asked, opening his eyes.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” James said, breathing heavily. The older man positioned himself over May, hovering over his chest. Grabbing his cock, he positioned the head against James’s lips. May decided he wanted at least a little leverage over Jeremy, knowing this would be one way to get it. He opened his mouth and took in the head. The musky taste made his own cock leap, begging for attention. Clarkson moaned and grabbed a handful of James’s hair (which had thankfully grown back).

“That’s right,” Jeremy said lowly, thrusting lightly into James’s mouth. “You feel so good. Yes, yes, yes.” A minute later, just as his James's jaw was starting to ache, Jeremy pulled out. His face flush and his breathing, heavy. “Your turn,” he said simply. He grabbed a pillow and lifted James to place it under his hips. Excitement flooded James, but was soon extinguished when Clarkson took the opportunity to tease him again. He kissed around May’s lower body, not touching anything James needed him to touch. He dragged the tip of his tongue from May’s naval, down to his hip, around his cock and balls, and just missing his entrance. James whined loudly.

“Please, Jeremy!” he shouted, frustration obvious in his voice. “God, please!”

“Please what?”

“Jeremy!” James all but screamed. Clarkson chuckled at this. He had a hand on both of James’s legs, spreading them further apart. He let the tip of his tongue trail down to James’s entrance, earning a cry from the younger man. His tongue circled the ring of muscles, soon joined by one of his fingers. James wiggled his hips, trying to increase the pressure, and Jeremy smacked him hard. James cried out again.

“Patience!” He continued to lick at the muscles, penetrating him so slowly with his finger that James let out a small sob. Leaning back, Clarkson put on the condom and squirted lube on his hand, rubbing it slowly onto himself. James looked at him expectantly, and was disappointed when he moved into the same position he had just been in. He took his finger, now soaked with lube, and penetrated James slowly. The pace was excruciating. Once fully inside of him, he took his finger out at the same pace, watching James’s face. After five thrusts, James let out another sob.

"Clarkson! Please, please,” James begged. He could see the surprise on Jeremy’s face. May had never been undone like this before. James had never genuinely begged. Jeremy removed his finger and started to finally unbutton his shirt.

“What do you want me to do?"

“Please fuck me.” Next thing James knew Jeremy’s mouth was on his and his hand lined his cock up to James’s entrance. He entered him roughly, forcing out another cry from May. A punishing pace was set, driving James inch by inch up the bed; his arms were the only thing separating his head from the headboard. James moaned with nearly each harsh thrust, his eyes closed tight and mouth hanging open. Tears were welling in his eyes. He bit his arm to try to silence himself, and Jeremy slapped his arse harder than he had previously.

“I want to hear you,” he panted. Soon after, he untied James’s arms, which instantly wrapped around Jeremy’s neck. He stopped moving inside of May, obviously trying not to come on the spot. A moment later, he kissed James softly and started a slower pace.

“Jeremy… Faster, pleaseee,” he begged. Clarkson pulled out immediately and leaned back onto his knees and heels.

“Get up and turn around.” He did as he was told and Jeremy leaned forward, positioning him against James again. May braced himself, holding onto the wall with one hand and grasping the headboard with the other. Clarkson thrust into him, starting up the harsh pace again. This new position allowed a deeper thrust and had James basically screaming. His head shot forward with each thrust, hair flopping back and forth. One hand grasped May’s hip and another wrapped around his neglected cock, starting to pump it as in time as Jeremy could manage.

“I’m so close,” James whispered. “Please let me…” Jeremy leaned forward and grabbed James’s arms, pulling them back. He held them back and slammed into the younger man.

“Come for me, James,” He panted, releasing one arm and returning it to the other man’s cock.

“Jeremy!” May screamed, his orgasm washing over him. Jeremy followed after a few more thrusts. James weakly rested against Jeremy’s body, head fallen back onto the other man's shoulders. Both men were panting heavily and James still let out a few small moans. Clarkson kissed May's shoulder and neck, his hands rubbing the front of James’s body. A moment passed and Jeremy pulled out, leaned back, threw the condom in the bin by the bed, and leaned forward again to support James. He still rubbed his lover's body, bringing him down from the orgasmic high.

“I love you, James,” Jeremy said quietly. It was a moment before James responded.

“I love you too, Jeremy.” He leaned forward and moved to slide under the covers, wincing at the pain he knew would be worse tomorrow. “That was bloody amazing, but I know I’ll regret it.” Jeremy moved to spoon James, holding him close.

“Call in sick. I’ll stay home and take care of you.”

“Lovely,” James said sleepily.

“You made quite a mess, I must say. These sheets need to be washed.” Jeremy trailed his hand down to James’s lower stomach. “You do realise you’re still covered in come, don’t you?”

“Too tired to care.”

“You’re disgusting. And I did all the work!”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, fine.” Jeremy said, placing a kiss on the back of May’s sweaty neck. He leaned over and turned off the lamp. “I hope you enjoyed your birthday,” he whispered, spooning James.

“It was perfect,” James said sleepily. Moments later, they were both sleeping.

  
“Do you want to do anything special?” Jeremy asked, grabbing a lager and handing it to James.

“I’m still slightly sore from the last special occasion, to be perfectly honest,” James said smiling and accepting the drink. Jeremy smiled.

“It’s been four days!”

“I’d love to, Jeremy, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Maybe we should move our anniversary. The 20th is too close to your birthday.”

“I don’t think you can move your anniversary. And you don’t HAVE to have sex to celebrate. It’s not a requirement,” James said, sipping his drink. Jeremy plopped onto the sofa next to him.

“Well, I want to do _something_!” Jeremy drawled. James racked his mind for something interesting.

“Pub?”

“We always go to the pub…”

“You can invite Andy and I’ll invite Colin,” James said, plopping his feet on Jeremy’s lap and putting his lager on the table. As they had in their last flat, a small table sat in front of their sofa. They tried their best to make this flat look as much as the other. Of course, this was rather difficult, considering this one was much smaller. 

“You wouldn’t mind having friends over on our anniversary? Aren’t we supposed to do something… You know… Just us two? Something romantic or what have you?” Jeremy asked, grabbing James’s lager and having a taste.

“You seem to think I’m much more sensitive to this sort of rubbish than I really am. No, I don’t mind. If you insist on making it romantic, we can have a good snog before we go to sleep.”

“Byron has nothing on your ideas of romance,” Jeremy said, moving James’s legs and sliding behind him, wrapping his arm around May’s waist.

“I’m gonna fall off, you muppet!” He grabbing Jeremy’s hip firmly to steady himself. Clarkson placed a kiss on the crook of May’s and chuckled. “You are the randiest person I know. Bugger off.”

“I’m trying.”

“Jeremy, you are coming awfully close to having a fist in your face.”

“How about this: Why don’t we pull each other off now and then go out to a nice place? Just the two of us tonight. We can have Colin and Andy come ‘round Friday.”

“You are such a girl,” James said, turning on the sofa to face Jeremy. They kissed for a moment before breaking away.

“So? Sounds good?”

“If you insist on celebrating,” James said. Their anniversary went much like Jeremy had suggested. Neither complained.

  
“Well that was awful,” Colin said, walking over to the dart board to collect the darts.

“Thank you, I try my best,” James responded. “Give me a minute. I haven’t had my three pints yet.”

“It really does astound me that he only plays half decently with three pints,” Jeremy remarked from his chair near them. “If he hasn’t had them, his dart playing is like everything else he does: rubbish.”

“Shut up,” James said, taking aim. “I’m just warming up.”

“You’ve been warming up for nearly half an hour.”

“It takes time.”

“Everything you do takes time! You have to be the slowest creature I know of.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

“You two bicker more than my parents,” Andy said, standing from his chair next to Clarkson. “Mind if I have a go, James?”

“‘Course not. I’ll get us another round. One more beer and you’ll all be sorry you mocked my dart playing abilities.”

“Why? Working up the courage to turn around and aim at us?” Jeremy asked, smiling. James rolled his eyes and approached the bartender. They had picked a relatively quiet pub at James and Colin’s request, both not fans of too much noise. Colin met James to help carry the drinks once they were given.

“Gotcha. Just wondering,” James heard Andy quickly say as he was returning to their table. James momentarily wondered why he said that as to not let them hear, but quickly lost interest. He saw a look of slight confusion vanish from Jeremy’s face, replaced with the excitement at the appearance of more alcohol.

“James, I am inches away from slamming your head onto this table,” Colin said.

“You are supposed to put the tools back INTO the box! Surgeons put their-“

“Their instruments back on the tray, I know. You use this argument every single time we discuss this.”

“Yes, well, the argument stands, doesn’t it?”

“James, Colin, please, for the love of all that is holy, stop talking about tools,” Andy said.

“Not that interesting,” Jeremy chimed in. “The boring bastards aren’t even talking about tools. I’m assuming this is the long-going debate on how to properly store the tools during use. I’ve had to listen to this at least four million times, Wilman. It does not get interesting.”

“My apologies for not being exciting enough for you, Mr. Bond,” James said. “Living with you is so incredibly exciting, you’d think I’d have more to talk about.”

“Exactly!”

“How is it, James?” Andy asked. “Surprised you haven’t killed him by now. I would have done.”

“It’s come close, to be perfectly honest. In case you haven’t figured it out for yourself, Clarkson can be a massive bellend.”

“Front page news, that!” replied Andy. There was a light chuckle around the table. “So, how are you two adjusting to the city?”

“It’s been several months,” Clarkson said. “I think I’m pretty well adjusted.”

“Great. I haven’t heard anything about any special visitors. Having a dry spell, Clarkson?” Andy asked. Instantly, James felt his muscles tighten. Jeremy smiled at Andy, raising an eye brow.

“I don’t know, Wilman. Try saying that to the poor bird that spent the night last Wednesday,” he said with a devious smile.

“Really? Well?”

“Let’s just say the poor girl didn’t walk straight for days after,” Jeremy said, chucking afterward. James could feel his face heat up, and he thanked whatever god there might be that he didn’t blush.

“When was that?” Andy asked.

“Uhhh, Wednesday, I think?” Jeremy said, looking at James. If James hadn’t known Jeremy as well as he did, he probably wouldn’t have caught the “Oh shit” expression that briefly and subtly flashed across his face. James knew he had probably made a similar face. Only a beat missed, James knew Jeremy was starting to cover his tracks. “Right, James? What day had you gone out?”

“Wednesday.”

“That was your birthday, wasn’t it?” asked Colin.

“Yeah.”

“You bastard, you told me you were staying in. Who went with you?”

“I went by myself,” James said, not looking at Jeremy. A second later, he added, “Well, I left the pub alone, that is. Clarkson dragged me out, sat me at a table and said he was going get drinks. That was the last thing I saw of the arsehole.”

“Sounds about right,” Andy laughed. “And on your birthday? That’s horrible, Clarkson.” Jeremy just laughed at this, also avoiding James’s eyes.

“You’re telling me,” James said. After that small episode, the rest of the evening went relatively well. Afterward, once they got back to the flat, James decided it would be better calmly ask Jeremy what he was thinking.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“What?” asked Jeremy, innocently.

“When you started talking about brining a girl back to the flat. What was that?”

“James, I didn’t actually bring a girl back, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jeremy said, talking to James as if he were talking to someone much simpler than himself. He took off his shoes and sat on the sofa. “A drink and off to bed?”

“No, Clarkson, I know you didn’t literally bring someone back here.”

“It was you.”

“Obviously, I-“

“I was referencing the sex we did,” Jeremy said. “Grab me a drink, dear.”

“Jeremy, you can’t say things like that in front of people.”

“Why-“

“Because not everyone is as stupid as you assume they are, you muppet,” James said, grabbing them both a drink and sitting next to Jeremy.

“James, Andy has known me for years. He’s my best mate, yeah? If I stop ‘seeing’ girls all together, he will undoubtedly think something is wrong. He might not suspect this,” he said signaling between the two of them. “But he will notice something off about it, and he knows exactly how to extract information from me. Know’s how my mind works.”

Speaking of, what were you two talking about when Colin and I came back with the drinks?”

“What are you talking about?” Jeremy asked. James explained what he had seen. “Ohhh, no. Nothing serious. He asked if I enjoyed living with you. I said I could kill you every know and then, obviously, but overall, I didn’t mind. Then he tried to tell me how you are the sort to need space, and I could crash at his if it all gets too much. More for you than me, really.”

“Man in heaven, PLEASE take him up on that offer,” James said. “Just one night I’d like to do a puzzle in peace!”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me, then, isn’t it?” Jeremy said, smiling. “I’m exhausted. I’m gonna turn in.” He stood and kissed James. “Are you coming?” For a moment, James considered sleeping in his own room; he relayed need bit of alone time. But, for some reason, he was finding it incredibly difficult to say no to Jeremy.

“I’ll change and then I’ll come meet you.” Jeremy nodded at this and went to his room. Minutes later, James entered the room and slid under the covers, wrapping his arms around Jeremy’s chest and pulling him flush against James. He placed a light kiss on the crook of Jeremy’s neck and let his head hit the pillow.

“James?” Jeremy asked quietly.

“Hmm?” May answered quietly.

“I want you to fuck me.” James lifted his head, completely shocked.

“What, now?”

“‘Course not, you idiot. But I would like to try it out,” Jeremy said, his voice tampering off at the end.

“Sorry I never offered. I thought you had made it perfectly clear you didn’t want to.”

“No, I had. But that was over a year ago, James.”

“Barely.”

“Shut up. Point is, I’d like to try it. Are you down?”

“Of course,” James said, pulling Jeremy even closer. He placed a kiss behind Clarkson’s ear and whispered, “I can’t wait to have my wicked way with you.” Jeremy chuckled.

“You are such an old person. Now fuck off, I’m trying to sleep. G’night.”

“G’night. Love you,” James said, the words tripping off his tongue effortlessly.

“Love you too.”

What was left of January passed quickly. James had taken up Jeremy’s request, and if he were perfectly honest, he was happy Jeremy had wanted it. They both seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, and afterward, Clarkson admitted it was much more enjoyable than he was expecting. Another plus from the experience was he sympathised with James more after sex. He seemed to make an effort to be gentler with James, something May appreciated.

  
Time continued to fly by, and as it did, new problems began to arise. Jeremy, by the end of February, had been promoted and now worked longer hours. The pay was better, but the stress coupled with waking up earlier and working longer started to grate on him. James knew the other man would have trouble with the transition, so he would steer clear of Clarkson when he came home with a foul temper. Naturally, James couldn’t always stay away from the horrible moods. Small squabbles became more frequent, and Jeremy was normally the one to escalate them. those nights usually ended with Jeremy cuddling up to James and apologising for being such a cock. He would then proceed to explain something that happened at the office or during a test drive(part of his promotion) that had set him off. James would listen and sympathise, but he couldn’t help the horrible feeling that crept inside his chest. Thoughts like, “How can he complain? He has a fantastic, well-paying, interesting job!” and “I worked my arse off at university and I’m working in a records office,” would surface in James’s mind. He tried to push them out immediately, of course, but some days were harder than others. He found his patience with Jeremy running thinner as time passed. He noticed Clarkson trying harder to stay out of James’s way, especially if he seemed irritable. At one point, they didn’t seem to say much to each other aside form the bare minimum; not out of anger, but out of fear the other might snap. James knew this did not help their relationship, and worry sank in. Near the end of March, Jeremy’s mood was getting better and he seemed happier. James could not say the same. He still had moments of horrible resentment, followed by guilt, and inevitably ending in depression. Clarkson would come meet him on the sofa and cuddle up to him, pulling him close. Sometimes this would ease the ball that sat on James’s chest. More guilt cropped up as he realised Jeremy started to show signs of worry over James’s mental state.

“I’m sick of working so hard and long at a job I absolutely loathe. I went to university to avoid this situation,” James said to Jeremy one night as they laid in bed.

“I know, love. Don’t worry. It will come,” Jeremy said, placing a small kiss on James’s shoulder. May had to fight the urge to point out he was not Jeremy, nothing in his life was just handed to him. He breathed deeply, trying to push the thought out of his mind.

“Jeremy, what have I done with my music degree since I’ve moved here? Played a few weddings? Nothing is coming of it.”

“What about the interview you went on Monday?”

“Just like the three before it: nothing.”

“I’m sorry, love.” Even though James knew there was nothing else, realistically, that Jeremy could say to make him feel better, it left him feeling empty and hopeless. A few days later, on the 28th of March, James decided to go for a walk. By the look on Jeremy’s face when he returned, Clarkson wasn’t expecting him to return with company. To be fair, James wasn’t expecting it either.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Jeremy asked, shock evident on his face.

“Think it’s a cat,” James said, setting it on the floor of the flat. “Well, a kitten.” The black and white tabby sat in the spot it was set, dirty and shaking. “He has to be a few months old,” James said grabbing a small bowl and setting it near the cat. Grabbing the milk, he poured it into the dish.

“Why did you bring that mangey beast back here?”

“Why not?”

“It’s disgusting!”

“Poor dear isn’t drinking,” James said, ignoring Jeremy.

“Now it’s wasting our milk!”

“Shut up,” James said, picking up the kitten and bringing it to the kitchen sink. He put the stopper in and started the water.

“You brought him all the way here just to drown him?” Jeremy asked jokingly, getting up to come look over James’s shoulder.

“No, I’m washing him off.” He stopped the water just over the kitten’s paws and began to scrub away the mud caked to its black and white fur. “Thing looks terrible. I didn’t see any other cats nearby.”

“So you picked up a random cat and brought him here? What if that was a lonely child’s pet?”

“They weren’t taking much care of him, were they?” James asked. “What are we naming him?”

“Nothing, because he’s not staying.”

“Don’t listen to him,” James said to the cat. “He’s just a massive bellend.”

By day two, the cat was eating, drinking, and had been named Fusker. Jeremy said it was a stupid name, but didn’t try to come up with anything better. Easter came and went. James and Jeremy drove to Yorkshire to spend the day with their own parents, driving back that night. April finally rolled around and Jeremy came home to find James sitting on the sofa with Fusker and a bottle of whiskey: most of it gone.

“W’s this?” Jeremy asked. “Move, you small beast,” Clarkson said, lightly setting the kitten on the floor. James looked at Jeremy, not able to focus. The other man brushed some hair out of May’s face.

“What’s wrong, love?” Jeremy asked.

“Not in the mood,” May said, pulling away. When he noticed the other man hadn’t moved, he sighed. “I’ve been sacked.” Jeremy looked confused for a moment and smiled.

“Is this a really horrible April Fools prank?”

“Of course it fucking isn’t, you bloody fool,” James snapped.

“I’m sorry, James.”

“I hated the job. I absolutely loathed it, but money is money. It was my main source of income. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do, Jeremy,” he said. He knew, realistically, Jeremy was now making enough to cover rent, but just barely. He had a few quid saved, but it would definitely run out fast in London. He could not ask his parents for money; that was simply out of the question. All of those thoughts had spiralled out of control, deepening the depression and worry. “I feel sick,” he mumbled. He laid down and Jeremy cuddled up behind him, lightly holding him. May's hand dangled off of the sofa and Fusker came to rub against him. “Bugger off,” James said quietly. Fusker, frightened by James moving his arm, bolted across the room.

“James, stop being a dick.” Jeremy said quietly.

“I’ve just been sacked. How do you expect me to be?”

“Shhh. It’s alright. Just stop.”

“It’s not though, is it?” May asked. He started to unload all of his worries about the situation, from the most obvious to the most illogical. At the first sign of Jeremy trying to tell him a thought was mad and could never happen, May shot up as quickly as he was able, pulling away from Jeremy.

“Please tell me how you would know, Jeremy? You’ve never had to scrounge for money! Everything’s always been handed to you!”

“James, that is not-“ Jeremy started, anger rising in his voice.

“The fuck it isn’t! Private school, Great jobs, getting paid to play around in a different car every week!“

“First of all, my parents struggled to put me through school-“

“I think it’s bloody hilarious how you use the word ‘struggled’. Let me tell you, my family struggled! _St_ _ruggles!_ ” James corrected himself. “We could barely afford shoes! We bounced from house to house-“

“I know, James! Stop trying to compare us and calm down!”

“I just think it’s really bloody rich how I have been struggling and fighting and working so fucking hard to have a job that barely pays and sucks arse, while you have a dream job practically given to you! What the fuck have you done to deserve it? What, Jeremy? Please, I am begging you, tell me how to have good fortune fly at me from left, right, and centre!” James yelled. For a solid moment, Jeremy looked like he was about to punch James. A part of May wanted him to. He felt absolutely worthless. A wave of self hatred hit again. He felt his eyes stinging and he sat back on the sofa, his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t mean to say that,” he said lowly.

“Of course you did,” Jeremy said, his voice equally low, but sounding void of anger.

“I’m just upset.” He exhaled. “I hate how my efforts always seem so pointless,” James said, his voice breaking. Jeremy sat next to him again and wrapped his arms around May.

“I won’t let you struggle more than we have to,” Jeremy said. “I make enough to support us for a couple of months. We both have money saved. It will be okay.”

“I don’t want you to support me, Jeremy.”

“Shhh,” he said pulling James more into his arms. James was now fully on the sofa, sitting in-between Jeremy’s legs, his arms wrapped firmly around James’s chest. His head rested on the younger man’s shoulder. “I love you, James.”

“I feel completely useless. Such a waste of-“

“Do not talk about yourself that way. You aren’t useless… Well, you are most of the time actually,” Jeremy said, squeezing James and smiling. He kissed the side of James’s head. “Joking. Calm down and stop overthinking. I’m telling you, that’s going to kill you one day.”

“If you don’t first,” James said. Jeremy chuckled.

“True.” They both sat there for a moment, May taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. “All better?” Jeremy asked.

“Believe so. Sorry for being a dick, Fusker!” he called out.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. I mean, you’re always a dick to me, and I’m still around.”

“Shut up,” James said, leaning back into Jeremy. “I’m drunk, depressed, and exhausted.”

“A few of my favourite things. Come on, up you get. Let’s go sleep it off, yeah?”

“Sure.”

  
As each day passed, James became more and more desperate to find a job. By the 10th of April, he had already gone to three different interview, all ending with the same disappointing outcome. As the next day was Jeremy’s birthday, he had decided to spend the day cleaning and preparing for the evening’s celebration. The next day, he woke to find Jeremy gone and Fusker tapping his face. He started off by doing the general chores: clothes, dishes, and tidying the flat. He finished a little after noon, ate a sandwich, and then went to the local shop, trying to decide what he’d cook for that night’s meal. He couldn’t exactly afford to take Jeremy anywhere special, so he’d try to make up for it with a bottle of good wine and a half decent meal. He found Jeremy’s favourite bottle of wine and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the price. He could only afford one bottle, a pack of sugar, and flour. Thankfully, they had everything else needed to bake a cake.

James set out more food for Fusker and checked the clock. THOUGHTS The stupid cunt is an hour late. The pasta’s already absolute bloody zero. Might as well leave it in the oven. It was a full twenty minutes later that Jeremy finally arrived.

“Happy Birthday, knob head.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy said, giving James a small peck before taking off his black jacket and throwing it on the table. “Feel like going out?”

“Actually, I made carbonara. It’s in the oven. Oh, and cake, of course.”

“How nice! I’ve always wanted a 1950’s house wife!” Jeremy said, going over to check on the pasta.

“Fuck off,” James said, his temper suddenly flaring.

“Calm down, James, I was only kidding. I really appreciate what you’ve done. Oh, look! You’ve bought my Rosé! How did you afford that?”

“You’re welcome. Now sit down and I’ll give you food.”

“That’s all I ask,” Jeremy responded. It was at that moment James felt his stomach drop; he had completely forgotten to buy Jeremy a gift. “I’m sorry I was late. The arseholes at the office forgot to mention the editor was out this week. Funny they didn’t mention it to me because I was apparently taking his place. I had to have at least a few finish before I could leave.”

“All is fine,” James said, bringing the two plates of carbonara to the sofa. He sat next to Jeremy and poured them both a glass of wine. “Right, so I’ve been a bit of a pillock-“

“Call the BBC! This is news!” Jeremy said, chewing the food. “Half decent.”

“Right, shut up. No, I completely forgot to get you something for-“

“James, I wasn’t expecting you to get me anything. Okay?”

“Right, but-“

“Shhhhhh,” Jeremy said putting down the wine glass. “How about you put on ‘Butch C’ and let me enjoy the evening? I’ve had a long day, James. I just want a quiet even. Right, you little Fusker?” he said to the cat. He grabbed Fusker and put him next to him on the sofa. James did as he was asked, mumbling as he did so. Halfway through the movie, he stood and cleared away the food, much to Jeremy’s protestations. “Best part!” he yelled.

“Yes, yes, I know.” James noticed the bottle of wine was nearly empty. Grabbing another bottle of a much cheaper wine, he poured them both another glass. By the end of the film, they were both more intoxicated that they would like to admit. Jeremy pulled James into a kiss and nearly flattened Fusker when he laid back, bringing James with him. With the amount of alcohol they had both had, the sex didn’t last long. It wasn’t exactly sex as such, but rather James sucking Jeremy and then waking himself off. It took what little energy they had left to move to the bedroom and put on sleep clothes. The next morning, James woke up with a hangover and Jeremy breathing his morning breath directly into May’s face. He thanked whatever god there might be that it was a Saturday.

  
“I don’t think you’ll like bus driving. It’s not-”

“Money is money, Jeremy,” James said. “I haven’t had work for over a month. And I don’t mind driving, as I’m sure you know.”

“Has it already been a month?” Jeremy asked, twisting a lock of James’s hair around his finger.

“It feels longer. Anyway, what are you testing this week?”

“I find out tomorrow.”

“Let me know.”

“Will do. Oh, I forgot to tell you, your mum called.”

“Did she?” James asked putting Fusker on the bed. He reached over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and giving one to Jeremy. He opened the window and returned to laying next to Jeremy.

“Yes. Told her you were at the shop. She asked how you were really doing because apparently ‘you never tell her anything anymore.’”

“Oh, heavens.”

“‘Did James lose any more weight? Is he eating? Is he seeing anyone? Did he find a job?'”

“What did you say?”

“He’s skin and bones, never eats, seeing at least five girls a week while snorting lots of cocaine, which he also sells.”

“Funny,” James said, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

“Said, you now have a job, you HAVE lost weight but are eating, and you are NOT seeing anyone.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.”

“You have lost a bit of weight,” Jeremy said, laying his hand flat on James’s chest and trailing it down to his abdomen.

“So have you, pillock.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to eat anymore gruel.” James smiled at this. “What time do you have to get up?”

“6:30,” James answered, closing his eyes as Jeremy continued rub May’s torso.

“Right. Well, don’t wake me up in the morning, please.” Fusker decided then to follow Jeremy’s hand and sat on James, right under his ribs. Jeremy smiled. “Happy?”

“Knackered, but happy.” 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

AN: Thanks, alayat, for the help!

 

“Jeremy, please put that down.”

 

“We need this!” Clarkson said, turning over a package of plastic sheets in his hand as they walked. “If we had this on the bed, you’d never have to wash the sheets again! We can just change them out every now and then.”

 

“That seems uncomfortable and disgusting. Now, please put it down.”

 

“We can put it on the sofa! It'll keep Fusker’s hair from littering it.”

 

“I think my nan did that,” James said, grabbing the package from Jeremy and putting it on a shelf. “Speaking of cleaning, we have to do a bit of that when we get back.”

 

“You know that won’t happen. I've already been productive once today. Reached my quota.”

 

“Clarkson-“

 

“Shhh. you can do the tidying up and I’ll cook. Yes?”

 

“Can we afford these?” James asked, grabbing a set of plates.

 

“We’re not poor anymore, remember? Let me see,” Jeremy said, taking them from May. He put them back on the shelf. “We don’t need them.”

 

“But I liked the des-“

 

“They’re hideous!” Jeremy said. “Come on. Let’s move on.” James did not respond, still looking at the plates. “Please move, James. Don’t you want to go home?”

 

“Yes, but I like the design,” James said again, grabbing the plates. He observed them carefully.

 

“Well, take them and let’s move on.”

 

“Can we afford them?”

 

“Yes, James, we can. Please move,” Jeremy said, grabbing May’s arm and pulling gently.

 

“Hang on, I don't want to drop them.”

 

“Please be quick for once in your life, James!” May decided the plates weren’t worth it and they continued their shop. By the time they finished buying a few tea towels, bowls, and a saucepan, Jeremy was complaining that he was hungry and they must stop right that moment to eat. James took advantage of this, leaving the other man at a small Thai restaurant while he did the food shopping. He told Clarkson to order something for him so he could have it when they got back to the flat. The smell tempted James the entire ride home. Since they finally had a free day to spend together, the pair took the opportunity to discuss their current state of affairs. They had managed to replenish, as well as add to the money spent during James’s unemployed period, so their financial situation was much better off than it had been. After all, James had been working for a few months at this point. They were both shocked at the realisation that September was only a week away. They talked about Fusker being an abnormally stupid beast, James using his favourite name for the animal (Pikey Cat). May loved the moments when he and Jeremy could sit and talk without time restriction or bad tempers. Jeremy’s job, although well paying, occasionally stressed Clarkson out more than either of them cared to admit. They had both learned how the other dealt with stress, and avoidance was the best way to prevent a row.

 

“Do we have anything to do next weekend?” Jeremy asked, observing a piece of the puzzle they were assembling. James thought for a moment.

 

“Not sure. I don’t think we have anything, really. I might have to work Saturday morning, though.”

 

“Great. My parents would like to come for a visit.”

 

“When did you speak to them?” James asked, placing the last piece of the cottage door.

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“Wonderful. What bit are you working on?”

 

“Grass.”

 

“Where will they be sleeping?”

 

“They can sleep in my room,” Jeremy said, grabbing the bottle of wine to refill their glasses. “I’ll sleep in here.” He stood and walked behind the kitchen counter that separated the living area/dining room from the kitchen.

 

“Or you can offer to-“

 

“Damn and blast!” Jeremy yelled as Fusker let out a shrill cry. “The stupid animal must really enjoy being tread on! Fusker, don’t run in front of people and they won’t step on your damn tail! The little bastard nearly made me drop the bottle,” he said, holding up a new bottle of wine. James didn’t look up from the puzzle.

 

“You can offer to sleep here and I’ll say ‘Nonsense! why sleep here when you can sleep on my blow-up mattress,’ and all that?”

 

"My dad's pretty sharp, so we'll have to be careful."

 

“I haven’t spoken to him in years. Is he still a… Well, an arse, really.”

 

“No. He’s calmed down since I've made something of myself. He’s just happy I have a proper job.”

 

“Hmm. Must be nice,” James said before thinking. He looked up and met Jeremy’s eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean that.”

 

“James, you have a proper job now. Two, if you count _Performance Car_. By the way, we really liked the last article you’d written. If you could do more on rubbish cars, that’d be lovely. Alexandra, Ridley, and I thought it was hilarious.”

 

“Understood,” he responded, looking back to the puzzle. “Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson will be arriving Friday, yes?”

 

“Seems that way.”

 

“Right. That gives us enough time to tidy up. You’ll have to de-camp your room before they see it.”

 

“What do you mean by ‘de-camp’ my room?”

 

“‘Darling, can you see if our dearest Jeremy has clippers in his nightstand?’” James asked, doing a poor impression of what Mrs. Clarkson would sound like. “‘Oh, yes, here you are. It was in between the lubricant and condoms.’”

 

“That’s all I have, though.”

 

“In that department. Cannabis?” James asked. Jeremy winked. “Forget de-camping your room. Would you really define it as ‘parent approved’?”

 

“Well, no, but that won’t take long. Would you mind if I hide everything in yours?”

 

“I wasn’t going to let you lay them out on the table, was I?” James smiled. “Imagine their faces if we had everything on full display.” Jeremy chuckled at this.

 

“I can go buy a sex swing. We'll suspend it right in front of the television.”

 

“Porn mags spread on the table,” James said, with a laugh. “It would look like a demented doctor's office," he laughed. "‘Well, we’re going to pop in my room for a quickie. Have something to read while your son shags me senseless.’” They spent the rest of the evening laughing at different ways they could shock Jeremy’s parents, deciding to bring in James’s as well. "Might as well kill four birds with one stone," they joked. While he was excited to meet his lover's parents, James was a bit more nervous than he was leading Jeremy to believe. 

 

 

The week drug on at an agonising pace; the fear of the crucial re-introduction weighed on James. They were nice people when he had met them before, but that was years earlier. James had certainly not spoken to them since he started dating their son. Neither of them had any intention at all to reveal the news to the older couple, but the fact they might find something or become suspicious set James on edge. Jeremy was close to his mother, so it had initially shocked James to learn Mrs. Clarkson had no idea about her son’s relationship. When he and Jeremy discussed it a few weeks back, they had very little to say on the subject.

 

“Think about it,” Jeremy said. “If she finds out, she will more than likely tell dad. That would probably not go well by any means. I’d rather keep the peace.”

 

“How do you think she would react?”

 

“I would think she’d tell me I’m making a mistake, it’s against nature, et cetera. But hopefully she’d come to accept it.” And that was the end of it. When noon on Friday had finally come, James made sure to do a last check up on the supposedly parent-approved flat. All seemed fine. He decided to reward himself with a bit of reading and a glass of wine, more to steady his nerves than anything. Fusker joined him, curled up in May’s lap. After several minutes on the same page, he realised concentrating on a book was much too difficult and opted for some television. Four glasses of wine and a few episodes of Dad’s Army later, James found himself drifting off to the land of nod; he didn’t fight it.

 

  
“May!” yelled a loud voice. James jumped, forced out of his sleep. He felt slow and groggy. “Come on, up you get.”

 

“Leave him be,” said a feminine voice. James, his reactions being much slower as he had just woken up, responded to Jeremy by saying “Shut up,” but accidentally said it as Mrs. Clarkson was speaking.

 

“James!” Jeremy said.

 

“No, no, I am so terribly sorry Mrs. Clarkson. I wasn’t telling you- Sorry. Really bad timing. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t stress over it,” Mrs. Clarkson said with a hint of resentment in her voice.

 

“Right,” Jeremy said. “Yes, I’m sure you both remember James.” In that moment, May noticed Mr. Clarkson standing near by.

 

“Mrs. Clarkson,” James said, shaking her hand. “Mr. Clarkson.”

 

“How are you, James?” Mr. Clarkson asked.

 

“Fine. I’m just fine. Please sit,” James said, motioning awkwardly to the sofa. He dragged a chair from the bar closer to the sofa.

 

“It’s been years, hasn’t it? Jeremy told me you had finished university a few months ago. What was it you studied?”

 

“Graduated Summer of ’85 with a music degree.”

 

“Very good, very good. I had always wanted to play an instrument. What is it you play?”

 

“Harpsichord, piano, saxophone, and the recorder.”

 

“Very nice. I had always wanted to be a musician. And a dramatist…” They continued to talk, Mrs. Clarkson slowly warming up to James. An hour of slightly awkward yet comfortable enough conversation passed. James had opted to stay at the flat as the other three went out on the town for tea. He made himself a fish-finger sandwich, deciding afterward to go to sleep. He stirred when he felt arms wrap around him later, but chose not to protest.

 

“Locked the bedroom door?” he asked groggily.

 

“Don’t worry. Told them I would sleep on the blow-up mattress thing on the floor of your bed.”

 

“Okay. Had fun?”

 

“I did. I missed them.”

 

“Good,” James said, not actually hearing what Jeremy had said; he was already drifting back off to sleep.

 

  
The next morning, May decided to get up and make poached eggs and toast for himself and the Clarkson family. Jeremy, who had started to rise early thanks to his job, had pulled on a t-shirt and joggers. He slapped James on the bottom, earning a jump from the shorter man.

 

“Bloody Nora,” May whispered, surprised. “Scared me, you bellend.”

 

“Shhh, they wake easily,” Jeremy smiled, wrapping his arms around James, and pulling him in for a kiss.

 

  
“Let me go,” James said, pushing Clarkson lightly. “How would we possibly explain this?”

 

“Shhhhhh,” Jeremy said, pulling James closer again. “Just be quiet.” He kissed him slightly longer than what James was comfortable with, considering the guests were less than fifty feet away. At the sound of a door opening, James pulled away quickly and picked up the loaf of bread. Jeremy walked over to the coffee machine, laughing.

 

“Good morning, you two,” Mrs. Clarkson said quietly. “Coffee, Jeremy?”

 

“Just starting it.”

“Thank god,” she said, sitting at the table.

 

“I’ve made poached eggs and toast if you would like some,” James offered. “Well, I’m working on the toast bit, actually. Shouldn’t be long.”

 

“Just one slice for me,” she answered. May realised that Jeremy was exactly like his mother in the way that neither could properly function without a cup of coffee in the morning. Mr. Clarkson, however, was more like James: a quick cup of tea and he was ready to go on about his day. Mr. Clarkson wasn’t long to join the three, accepting an egg and toast.

 

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked cheerily.

 

“Dad, I haven’t had a chance to open my eyes much less plan anything. What would you two like to do?”

 

“Well, a little something I had in mind,” Mr. Clarkson started quickly. “Was maybe to go see _Cats_ in one of those theatres.”

 

“They have theaters of Cats?” Mrs. Clarkson asked groggily, sipping her coffee.

 

“No, love, it’s a musical.”

 

“Oh yes, oh yes,” she said nodding. “I’m not sure about that, Eddie.”

 

“I don’t know, dad,” Jeremy said, scrunching up his face. “A bunch of starving people dancing in cat suits for money. If you want to see that, I can take you to a strip club for less-!”

 

“Behave,” Mrs. Clarkson said, slapping his shoulder. James had to turn away to laugh. “At any rate, is it worth the money?I’m not even sure I’d like to see it, really.”

 

“A few mates told me they enjoyed it,” James said. “I'd like to go see it once ticket prices go down.”

 

“Well, there it is!” Mr. Clarkson said happily. “James and I will go.”

 

“Dad, that’s stran-“

 

“All settled. So, what will we be doing in the meantime?” James looked to Jeremy, hoping he could read the thought, _Jeremy, I can’t afford that ticket_. Clarkson nodded, making a face that James desperately hoped said _Don’t worry, I’ll help you out_. _I’ll be paying for the old bastard anyway_. Or at least something to that effect.

 

“Why don’t we just have a walk and see if anything catches your eye?” Jeremy suggested.

 

“Sounds great,” Mrs. Clarkson said lowly.

 

“Nothing you want to do, bunny?” Mr. Clarkson asked. She hesitated for only a moment before shaking her head.

 

“No.” She said.  Jeremy chuckled at her bluntness, something James knew he admired about his mother. She finished her coffee and held it out to Jeremy, who took it.

 

“You are something else, mum,” he said, still smiling.

 

 “And the best part is, you wouldn’t have me any other way,” she said.

 

“Well,” Mr. Clarkson said. “I don’t know about that.” He chuckled. “There might be a few things I would change.”

 

“Wrong, dad,” Jeremy said, placing a small kiss on his mother’s head. “Right. Get ready at your own pace. Take your time, actually. I’m still sleeping, really. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

 

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Clarkson said, not moving. “James, will you be joining us? The more the merrier.”

 

“No, sorry. I have to work for a few hours today. I should be back a bit before five, though.”

 

“Better be! We have a show to catch!” Mr. Clarkson said.

 

  
Thankfully, Jeremy had given James a few quid to pay for the ticket. The evening that followed was much better than he was expecting, much to his and Jeremy’s relief. As they were dozing off that night, Clarkson mentioned to May his small fear that James, unsupervised, might accidentally say something careless.

 

“That’s ridiculous. If anyone would say anything, it would be you, numpty,” James responded.

 

“You’re not wrong,” Jeremy said with a small chuckle. “I’m just happy it went well.”

 

“The show was fabulous, by the way. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

 

“You see, James, I didn’t ask because I didn’t care. Nor do I now, as a matter of fact.” Jeremy said. James slapped him and Clarkson chuckled. “That seems to be a reoccurring thing today. At any rate, I’m happy you enjoy the show. Now shut up and let me sleep. They walked me all over creation.” James placed a small kiss on Jeremy’s shoulder and agreed that sleep seemed like a fantastic idea. “Oh, by the way,” Jeremy yawned. “They like you.”

 

  
The Clarksons, Jeremy excluded, left the flat that Sunday. They thanked both Jeremy and James for the wonderful time. Once alone,  Jeremy had prepared a very nice meatloaf and the two moved their things back into Jeremy’s room. This was followed by quick sex and then sleep.

 

  
“I’m telling you, you caught that disease from the bus route.”

 

“No, you cock, I caught it from you,” James said, his voice raspy and pained.

 

“If you caught it from me, you would have had it sooner,” Jeremy said, followed by a horrific cough.

 

“Clarkson, you fucking-“

 

“Shh, shh, shh,” Jeremy said, laying down a bowl of onion soup in front of both of them. “Let’s not get bogged down with who gave who a disease.”

 

“Fuck off. You definitely gave me this, you bloody idiot.”

 

“But I’m tending you, aren’t I?” Jeremy asked.

 

“The least you could-“

 

“Shh, shh, shh,” Jeremy interrupted again. “Did you tell the bus people you won’t be in tomorrow?”

 

“Yes, mum, I told ‘the bus people’ I won’t be in,” James said, using air quotations.

 

“Why are you so cross?”

 

“I’m sick!” James rasped.

 

“So am I!” Jeremy countered indignantly.

 

“And I’m bloody bored. I haven’t done anything in two days!” Jeremy sat next to his partner.

 

“I know it’s horrible, James, but shouting won’t do anything to fix it. Film?” He grabbed the remote and turned on the television; James was grateful, as conversation hurt his throat. Fusker decided then was a good time to join the sickly pair. James sipped his soup for a bit before dozing off an hour through a movie. Upon waking up the next morning, he found he wasn’t the only one to have fallen asleep. He couldn’t find any trace of the cat, but Jeremy had laid on the opposite side of the sofa. He was surprised to find they each had their own blanket, along with Jeremy’s duvet on top of them both.

 

The day after, Jeremy had nearly made a complete recovery. With his newfound strength, he decided to tidy the house, as James had vocalised just how much the mess was bothering him. May awoke from a nap to find Jeremy finishing a curry he had brought home after work.

 

“You are an old man, May. I’ve never met another person who nods off as much as you.”

 

“That’s what happens when I sit still,” James said, wiping his eyes. “I fidget or sleep.” May watched Jeremy eat, as he wasn’t hungry. Afterward, Clarkson started on the dishes, and James was flooded with a strong feeling of appreciation and love for him. Jeremy was more domestic than he lead everyone to believe, James knew that. He was just shocked that Jeremy would do so much for him. He wrapped himself in the blanketand walked over to Jeremy, embacing him from behind. He let his cheek rest against the taller man’s back.

 

“Thank you for doing all of this.”

 

“‘Course,” Jeremy said simply.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Jeremy said, wiping his hands on a tea towel and turning around to embrace James. They stayed together for quite some time before Jeremy broke the hug. “Now get off before I catch the plague from you,” he said smiling.

 

“You bastard,” James chuckled. He kissed Jeremy’s shoulder and wished him a good night. Jeremy kissed May’s forehead and sent him off to sleep, James weakly waddling over to his own bedroom.

 

  
September came and went, as did October and November. The beginning of December brought several surprises for James; one of wich was when he came home one day to find Jeremy and a relatively attractive woman in the flat. The pair of them were sitting at the table, each with some papers and a drink in front of them.

 

“Good evening,” James said smiling and closing the door behind him. He gave the woman a courteous smile and nod.

 

“Oh, hi, James,” Jeremy said, wiping away a tear. The pair had apparently found something tremendously hilarious before James had arrived. “Alexandra, that’s my flatmate, James. James May, Alexandra James,” he said. She smiled sweetly.

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

“Yes, likewise.” She stayed for a few more minutes, talking to Jeremy about this person and that at the office. She looked at the small watch on her wrist. 

 

“Well, Jeremy, I think we did all the work we’re going to do. See you on Monday?” she asked, gathering her papers. He did the same with his.

 

“Sounds great, Alexandra,” he said, smiling and giving her a hug as they both stood.

 

“I told you I’d have none of that. Call me ‘Alex’, please.”

 

“Right. Goodbye, Alex. Drive safe!” once she left, Jeremy turned back to find James with his arms crossed.

 

“‘Call me Alex,’” James said in his best annoying “BBC newscaster” accent.

 

“Leave her be,” Jeremy chuckled. “She’s very sweet. She came to help me get start on next week's work!”

 

“Sure. She definitely didn’t wear that low-cut shirt with her breasts falling out to entice you,” James said, smiling. Jeremy walked over to James and put his hands on the other man’s waste.

 

“I guess she might have a little crush on me,” Jeremy said. “But you’ve got to remember, all the old friends knew me as a womaniser. Have to keep the image up!”

 

“Womaniser my arse. Who would want to have their wicked way with you?” James asked.

 

“You, apparently,” Jeremy said, laying a kiss on James’s neck. James held back a moan. “Just a quickie? I really do need to finish my-“ James cut him off with a kiss.

 

  
On the second week of December, another surprise caught both James and Jeremy completely off guard.

 

“Bad day?” Jeremy asked, dropping his jacket on the table. James let out a single, humourless laugh.

 

“Incredibly.”

 

“What happened? Wait, before you begin, what sort of occasion? Death, life altering, or extreme annoyance?”

 

“I got sacked,” James said, not looking at Jeremy. He wasn’t nearly as depressed as he had been last time; he was simply ashamed of himself. He couldn’t stand to see Jeremy looking at him with sympathy.

 

“Right. So a whiskey sort of evening,” Clarkson said, grabbing two glasses and the bottle. He set them on the table, poured the drinks, turned off the light, and turned on the television. He let himself fall on the sofa and grabbed for James’s hand; aside from this, no other gesture nor words were shared on the subject. It wasn’t until the next day, once Jeremy’s alarm for work started to sound, that James was hit by the crippling feeling of depression and failure.

 

  
“We can do as we did last year,” James suggested. “Christmas Eve and lunch with our separate families, drive home after. Christmas evening we spend together.”

 

“Great,” Jeremy grunted from the table. James noticed he was working on his Sunday article for another newspaper he had taken up. The second job was temporary; a job given to him from a friend who knew they were struggling.  Much as James’s position at Jeremy’s office, Jeremy picked up a weekly column from another paper. It didn’t pay much, but it covered the bills and gave them a bit to spend. James felt a pang of guilt and decided to leave him be, moving on to the meal he was preparing.

 

“I’ve got to date this,” Jeremy said nearly an hour later, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the date?” James put his plate in the sink and looked at the calendar above it.

 

“The twenty-third. It’s only Monday. Why do they need it so soon?”

 

“They wanted it yesterday, really. I’m about to go email it to them. The office closes tomorrow until Sunday, which gives them absolutely no time to edit it and send it back,” Jeremy explained, rubbing his eyes. James knew the extra work was really taking its toll.

 

“I’ve made carbonara,” he offered.

 

“Not hungry. I’m just too lazy to go send this. After that, I’m going to sleep.”

 

“Understandable,” James said, wrapping the uneaten pasta.

 

“Have you gone shopping?” Jeremy asked. “You won’t be able to tomorrow.”

 

“I haven’t.” May felt a slight touch of annoyance at the question. _With what money?_ he wanted to ask. “I’ve built mum a new bird house, though. Used scrap wood from my last project.”

 

“What are you going to do for your dad and siblings?”

 

“Not sure. I’m positive they’ll understand if I don’t bring anything.”

 

“You can’t do that,” Jeremy said. There was something James could not identify in the other man’s voice. It was slightly negative. “Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few quid. “We got a Christmas bonus. This is what’s left after it went to the bills.”

 

“I don’t need it. I’ll pull something together. I can give dad one of my new jumpers-“

 

“Just take it, James,” Jeremy interrupted.

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m not going to have you support me. I’m not a child.”

 

“Well, what am I doing now?” Jeremy asked. “Never bothered you before. I don’t understand why it does now,” he all but whispered. James was completely taken aback by this. He felt the words slash through him, but the pain was soon replaced with anger.

 

“Fuck you, Clarkson.”

 

“Well, now, don’t get-“ Jeremy started.

 

“That was uncalled for.”

 

“Uncalled for?” Jeremy asked incredulously. “Did I just hear you correctly? I’m holding down two jobs! I’m bloody exhausted! What have you been doing?”

 

“I’ve been applying for jobs!” James said, trying to keep his temper down. “I have an interview next week-“

 

“Well that’s no fucking good, is it?”

 

“Both of the jobs you have now, you have based on friendships and strings you can pull!” James yelled. “I don’t have that!”

 

“Of course, this excuse again!”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“Yes, James, I got both jobs based on my recommendations and personal ties! Fine! But that’s not how I kept them if you’d believe! It’s because I’m actually fucking good at something! I’m not completely useless!” Jeremy screamed. James was speechless; he wanted nothing more than to punch Jeremy right then. Deciding that removing himself from the situation would be better, he grabbed his keys and wallet from the table. He went to his room and grabbed a coat, sliding it on before he got back into the living room where Jeremy stood. “James. James, I’m- Where are you going?” Jeremy asked, grabbing at James’s arm. This was just enough to set May off. He pushed Clarkson’s arm away with a little more force than necessary.

 

“None of your bloody business is it?!” James screamed. He slammed the door behind him. To calm his head, as well as alleviate the guilt he felt, James hit the local petrol stations for cheap gifts he could buy for his family. As fuming as he was, James decided to buy Clarkson an interesting bracelet. He knew Jeremy had already bought his gift. He finished the shopping, but at the expense of the rest of the money in his wallet. He was saving that for petrol and lunch for him and Jeremy on the drive home to Rotherham. He thought he’d drive around a bit before going back to the flat, for fear that Jeremy might still be awake. He was angry, depressed, and completely drained; he had absolutely no energy for another fight. He made it back around half-passed midnight and was not surprised to find Jeremy had gone to sleep. He went to his room and wrapped the gifts as quickly as he could. The next morning, he packed, made himself breakfast, and waited for Jeremy to wake up. Once he finally had, they packed the car with their overnight bags and family gifts, leaving the flat a little after lunch. Neither spoke to the other on the entire three hour drive. To be fair, Jeremy had tried to start a conversation about the car he was testing that week, but James simply kept his eyes on his book and said, “Not interested.” Clarkson finally settled on turning on the radio to alleviate the silence. After dropping off James and his things, Jeremy went off to his parents for the night. The irritation James had felt during their wordless parting was completely wiped away by the excitement he felt to see his family.

 

Jane, his older sister who had gotten married some time ago(something James knew he should have taken more notice too(but hey, it was only one night, and at least he went!)) was now expecting her first child.

 

“Four more months,” she said happily. “I hope it’s a boy.”

 

“Why don’t you find out?” James asked.

 

“Want a surprise.”

 

  
His other sister barely took notice of his arrival, too occupied with her fiancé to be bothered about her brother. David, however, greeted James with a decent amount of enthusiasm. They had sat down for Christmas dinner around five in the afternoon and moved on to pudding by five-thirty. It was nearly that time the bell rang and David stood to answer it. Confused expressions were exchanged until David brought Jeremy into the dining room. James could honestly say that was the last person he was expecting to see.

 

“Excuse me,” he said, standing up from the table.

 

“I’m terribly sorry to disturb your Christmas Eve. I/m Jeremy Clarkson. I’m James’s flatmate,” Jeremy said.

 

“Of course! We remember you, dear,” said Mrs. May.

 

“ It appears that James and I had accidentally swapped gifts,” he chuckled lightly.

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, laying the Christmas pudding on the table.

 

“We used the same wrapping paper, you see,” Jeremy explained. By that time, James had already passed and was nearly to the living area where the gifts sat. He heard Mr. May offer Jeremy an invitation to stay and was shocked, annoyed, and slightly embarrassed when Jeremy accepted. He knew his parents were only asking him to join because they were good, polite people. They didn’t actually want him to stay; not a single person wanted Jeremy Clarkson to be at the May household, not even Jeremy.

 

After James had swapped the gifts, hiding the one that Jeremy had unwrapped before the discovery, he rejoined the table in the middle of a conversation between Jeremy and James May Sr.

 

“I miss Rotherham from time to time,” Clarkson said. “But I feel much more at home in the city.”

 

“I understand,” Mr. May said, nodding. “It’s not really the life for me, but I can understand how some would be better suited for that sort of lifestyle. I’m surprised James is handling it as he is.” James was fully prepared for Jeremy to say something along the lines of, ‘He’s not doing too well at the moment, is he?’ but it never came. Just a courtesy chuckle followed by ‘Right.’

 

“I’m shocked, myself,” said Jane. “I wasn’t expecting him to move to London of all places!”

 

“Especially after the music degree,” chimed in Mrs. May. “But he managed to get a relatively nice occupation. Right, James?” James swallowed hard, praying no one noticed.

 

“The music degree is over and done with, mum. But I’m currently in between jobs at the moment. Hopefully, it will all be worked out soon,” he said, looking to his sisters and their partners. He didn’t dare make eye contact with David or his parents. He knew David could feel his growing irritation and fear.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Mr. May said.

 

“I was sacked a few days ago.” He felt Jeremy’s eyes on him.

 

“Of course you were. Why would they need a music student in a records office?” Mr. May said, irritation evident in his voice.

 

“No, that was another one. I was just fired from,” James started hesitantly. His confidence was falling to all new lows. “I was fired from bus driving.”

 

“Well, a job is a job!” Jane’s husband interjected. James nodded his appreciation to the man.

 

“I cannot believe it,” Mr. May said quietly.

 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Mrs. May told him.

 

“Couldn’t even keep that job. What good that music degree did-“

 

“Dad, I learned quite a bit from the degree,” James said, his voice rising. “I’ve worked several different gigs since-“

 

“How are you living in London without a job is what I want to know!”

 

“I’ve had a few weddings I’ve played, and I’ve been writing a Sunday column.”

 

“I see. So aside from earning a bit of spending money, the damn degree was a complete waste of three years!”

 

“It’s not all about the music degree, dad!” David said, loudly. “Please stop bringing it into-“

 

“I don’t want to hear anything from you,” Mr. May said quietly. “I’m finished talking about this. I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed in you, James.” A silence followed and Mr. May then apologised to the guests for what they had just witnessed. He told them they could thank James for it.

 

“So, James,” Chris, Sarah’s fiancé, said moments later. “Anything interesting happening in London?”

 

“Nothing I can think of, really,” James answered.

 

“I see, I see. Meet anyone interesting?”

 

“Yeah, James,” Sarah joined. “Planning on bringing anyone to the next Christmas? I’m sure you’ve found some pretty-“

 

“I haven’t,” James said simply. “Why ask me? What about you, David?”

 

“I have a girlfriend.”

 

“Right,” James said. “Well, that was a wonderful conversation. It looks like everyone’s finished, mum. Would you like for me to gather the plates for you?”

 

“That would be very nice, James.” May did as he offered, still not making eye contact with Jeremy.

 

“Well, it’s been interesting,” Clarkson said with a laugh. “But I think I’ll be on my way.”

 

“Very well,” Mrs. May said. “Sorry for the family circus, Jeremy.”

 

“Oh, no, it’s fine! If I make it back in about ten minutes, I’m sure I’ll be able to make it in time for my sister, Joanna’s, ’No, dad, I really do love him’ speech.” They all laughed. James decided to walk Clarkson to the car only because he knew his parents would object if he did otherwise. Jeremy put the parcels in the back seat and looked at James as if he wanted to say something. After a moment, James looked beyond the car, not wanting to make eye contact. The attack from his parents had left him feeling humiliated, bruised, and overall depressed.

 

“Cigarette?” Jeremy offered.

 

“No. I’m fine.”

 

“Right.” There was another moment of silence.

 

“Well I’ll go back inside,” James said, starting to turn around.

 

“You aren’t a disappointment, James.” May let a small chuckle.

 

“It’s fine, Clarkson. You made it perfectly clear what you think of me.”

 

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I said those things.”

 

“It’s nice to know everyone thinks of me as a massive failure,” James said. “You might want to leave now.”

 

“Stop being melodramatic,” Jeremy said, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Can you see if any of them are watching us?” James checked.

 

“Don’t think so.”

 

“Right.” Jeremy put out his cigarette and embraced James. “I love you, James. You are not a failure. You are not a burden. You _are_ good at things; we just have to find them,” Jeremy whispered into James’s ear.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” James said. The emotional exhaustion left him feeling incredibly sensitive, and the tears were too close for comfort. “Thank you. I love you too. I’m sorry.”

 

“What for?” Jeremy asked, pulling away.

 

“For getting sacked left and right. I _am_  doing my best.”

 

“I know,” Jeremy said, wrapping James in another hug. “Alright. We can talk more about this later if you like. Personally, I’ve heard enough about it for one evening,” Jeremy smiled.

 

“I can dig it.”

 

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, James.” Clarkson looked around to make sure no eyes were watching them and drew James into a very quick kiss. “Happy Christmas.”

 

“Christmas EVE,” James corrected. Even in the dark, May could see Jeremy roll his eyes.

 

“Just stick out the rest of the night, yeah? We’ll have a stress-free Christmas tomorrow,” Jeremy said, sliding into the car.

 

“Right on,” James said. He watched Jeremy pull away and then went back inside to exchange gifts.

 

  
“We can’t afford this place,” James said simply. “Why can’t we eat at the flat?”

 

“This is your birthday/our anniversary celebration. We are going to have a nice meal out.” Jeremy said. “By the way, the suit looks nice on you.”

 

“Thank you.” When James didn’t respond to a cheeky comment Clarkson made about May’s arse, he sighed heavily.

 

“Stop worrying about the price!” James did his best. He was doing well until Jeremy ordered a wine he knew to be rather expensive. When James actually checked the price, he felt his eyes start to roll back into his head and his heart stop.

 

“Jeremy, what the actual-“

 

“Shhhh,” Clarkson interrupted. “Just enjoy dinner!”

 

“But-“

 

“This will keep going throughout the night, won’t it?” Jeremy asked, setting down the menu. “Fine, you’ve left me no choice but to spoil the surprise.”

 

“What surprise?”

 

“I’ve quit the other paper! The one I did the Sunday column for!” Once these words were said, James felt something he knew to be a vein burn white-hot from his hairline down his face. He knew he was moments away from death.

 

“Jeremy-“

 

“Don’t worry, we can still afford this. You know, now that you’re employed and all.”

 

“I don’t know what in are you’re talking about? I’m unemployed.”

 

“Not come Monday.”

 

“S… Sorry?” James asked, completely and totally confused. Jeremy started to observe his menu again.

 

“Well, I pulled a few strings, I guess you can say. You’ll be working with me. We have a full-time position open and-“ Jeremy continued to talk, but James heard nothing else. The excitement that filled his was so much, he had no idea what to do with it all. It took all he had not to reach across the table, grab Jeremy’s face, and kiss him. He was once again flooded with the overwhelming feeling of love he had for the other man. Clarkson looked up from the menu to find James’s glancing from place to place, a corner of his smile spread across his face. Jeremy chuckled. “Happy?”

 

“You have no idea,” James responded.

 

“Great. Now, if you don’t mind, can we go about the evening without worrying about the cost?” Jeremy asked, setting the menu back down.

 

“Sure. What’s on the schedule for tonight?”

 

“Great food, great drink, and great sex?” Jeremy suggested, lowering his voice.

 

“Fantastic,” James said, finally picking up his menu.

 

  
Monday came and James knew Jeremy was doing his best to lessen his nerves. He had even gotten up early to make them both breakfast. James considered his lover was doing his best to calm himself as well. He knew May was an incredibly hard worker (for the most part), but Clarkson had pulled a favour for this. Like many times in his life, James realised he was getting stressed for no reason. The day came and went. So did Tuesday and Wednesday, followed by Thursday. A week passed, and then a month. April and then August. James loved his job as a writer and subeditor. In the months he had worked there, he and Jeremy attended parties where he was introduced to people from other magazines and papers; he was forming ties with the same sort of people Jeremy had. A sense of security had sunk in, one that he grew to love. He was satisfied with life, finally. His parents seemed, for the most part, appeased (they weren’t the type to mention their pride in their children). He genuinely enjoyed his job, as well as his relationship with Jeremy. It was in October that things started to shift slightly. Jeremy was starting to get more irritable with James, who simply chalked it up to the never ending time they spent with each other; living and working together started to strain things. He decided space would probably be best. He figured that’s what Jeremy was doing when he stayed late at the office in November. He only did it two or three times, so naturally, James wasn’t worried. To be fair, he needed his space as well. He spent those night on the sofa with Fusker and a curry, Jeremy’s food sitting in the fridge. On those nights, though, Clarkson would bring home food as well as a very kind mood. He once even brought James a new puzzle.

 

“Stay late more often,” he joked as they worked on the puzzle together.

 

“Sorry?” Jeremy asked.

 

“If you bring me things and food every time you stay late, naturally I’ll encourage it,” James said, smiling. Jeremy chuckled but didn’t say anything after that. He just leaned in and gave James a small kiss. He stood up and grabbed on of James’s hands lightly.

 

“Fuck off! I want to finish this tonight!”

 

“Not gonna happen,” Jeremy said, kissing James’s neck.

 

  
December brought several strange incidents with it. After an insane week at work, everyone working around the clock, James was more than happy to spend a lazy Sunday at home with Jeremy. He turned over in the bed, nearly laying on Fusker who had spent the night between the two men. May’s finger played with Jeremy’s dark brown locks, before trailing lightly down the slightly curved surface of his back. He yawned and nearly fell back to sleep shortly after, but was brought back to the wrl of the living when Jeremy stood and started to get dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. This wasn’t Clarkson’s usual attire for a lazy day.

 

“Where are you going?” James asked, sitting up slowly.

 

“Oh, I was going to get something done at the office.”

 

“I thought we had everything set for tomorrow.”

 

“Nope,” Jeremy answered, simply. “I still haven’t edited Jess’s column.”

 

“You can do that here,” James protested. “Let’s do nothing.”

 

“Mr. May, that is the most unlike you suggestion I’ve ever heard,” Jeremy said, a look of slight shock on his face.

 

“I’m comfortable,” James responded simply.

 

“I was too… But I really don’t want to waste a day, James.”

 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it wasted.”

 

“Don’t be a girl... Fine, I’ll do it here… But I’d like to be alone for a bit. I really need to get shit done.”

 

“Understandable,” James said, getting up from the bed as Jeremy moved to turn on the computer at his desk. “I’ll go work on something. Then how about a curry and ‘Butch’?”

 

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” Jeremy asked, smiling.

 

  
Christmas was spent as it had been last year and the year before, but this time it was damn-near perfect. James had picked out something for Jeremy for their quickly approaching third anniversary. He kept it wrapped and under his bed in the other, rarely used room.

 

  
The office had made unanimous to have a New Years Eve party, rather than a Christmas one. The first half was spent with Jeremy and their immediate circle of friends. Clarkson, being the social butterfly he was, disappeared from sight a little after eleven-thirty. Midnight struck and a slightly drunk James looked for his partner. It was a few minutes after that May asked around for the other man, explaining that he was ready to leave. Paul said he spoke to him a bit before midnight, but not after. The party and drink had James feeling a bit on the randy side, so he made it his mission to find Jeremy and get him home as soon as he was able. He found Jeremy nearly half an hour later. He seemed sweaty and was also ready to leave. He was, for the most part, sober. He drove the two back to their flat, where once back, James pinned him against the wall and started to kiss him sloppily. For a moment, Jeremy was kissing back. He stopped as soon as James’s hand started to trail to the front of Clarkson’s trousers.

 

“James. James, stop,” he whispered softly, moving the younger man’s hand. He didn’t make eye contact. “I don’t think… It’s probably not going to happen tonight?”

 

“What?”

 

“Sorry… Nothing stirring,” Jeremy said, starting to move away. “I think I’ll have a quick shower and hit the bed.” James hadn’t really moved from the spot. He sat there, confused. “I’m sorry, May.”

 

“It’s okay,” James said, simply. He decided he’d just have a wank and go to sleep. It WAS late after all, and they had both been relatively stressed lately. It wasn’t an hour later he was sleeping, Fusker curled up beside him.

 

  
“May! How goes it!” Arthur said, waving a hand as he spoke.

 

“Ridley,” James said, giving him a small bow of the head. “Davis, Brown, Reed,” he greeted the rest of the men at the table. He sat next to Arthur Ridley. “I’ve enjoyed the holiday. But, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t been this bored in ages.”

 

“We’ve only been away for a week and a bit!” said Davis.

 

“Too much free time. I understand,” said Reed. “Oh, happy birthday, by the way, James.” May smiled at his friend.

 

“That’s next week, muppet.” A round of drinks was ordered and conversation bounced from topic to topic.

 

“I’m telling you, 1988 is the year I will stop drinking!” Ridley exclaimed. Davis rolled his eyes.

 

“Like ’87 was, yeah?”

 

“No, really! This is definitely the year.”

 

“You had a great start at the New Year’s Eve party, didn’t you?” James asked. “You were only mostly arse-faced.”

 

“Says the pot to the kettle! Do you have any recollection of that night?”

 

“Obviously. I remembered you were clattered, you numpty,” James smiled. He took a sip of his drink.

 

“I can’t say I remember anything, honestly,” Reed chipped in. “If it weren’t for Cindy, I would have probably slept at the office.”

 

“I don’t remember much either,” Davis laughed. “I just remember walking in on Jeremy and Alexandra in her office.”

 

“No way!” Ridley said. “You didn’t mention that!”

 

“Have done now, ‘aven’t I?” Davis asked. James felt his heart stop and sink for a moment he wondered if it would even continue beating. He tried not to make not to react in a suspicious way, settling with, “Well, let’s hear it.”

 

“You certainly have to know about this, James! You are his flatmate, aren’t you?”

 

“I am, but-“

 

“He and Alex have had something going since… What? November?”

 

“I knew about it,” Reed said simply. “I’ve been waiting for them to make it official!”

 

“Yeah, I walked in and he was giving her one against her file cabinet,” Davis said. “Bet that left some marks. But as soon as I walked in, he got his cock outta her and back in his trousers before I had a chance to blink. She seemed disappointed,” he finished with a laugh.

 

“No, he never mentioned anything to me,” James said. He felt sick and dizzy. In just a few moments, everything had gone from cake to ash.

 

“I’m surprised he never brought her home, honestly.”

 

“He may have done,” Reed responded.

 

“Nah,” Davis said. “I had her before. Trust me, James would definitely have heard,” he laughed. “Speaking of the old bastard, where is Jeremy?”

 

“Office,” James said, trying not to say it too quietly.

 

“Sure he is,” Ridley said. “Must be really getting work done.” The rest of the evening was a blur. James left the pub and went straight to the liquor shop, buying the strongest alcohol he could find. He spent the night in his room, thinking about the options and explanations. _It’s been nearly three years we’ve dated. I’ve known him for over a decade. Yes, he’s always been a bit promiscuous, but he wouldn’t. We’re happy._

 

 _It’s only been three years,_ James argued with himself. _That’s not long._

 

 _This was the most valuable relationship I’ve ever had. I love the stupid bastard._ James decided to stop thinking about it and drink himself silly. He told himself to wait and confront Jeremy after their third anniversary. He only had one week to wait before the truth would fix everything. He knew Jeremy wasn’t actually shagging her. It was just a cover up. He woke up with an absolutely monumental hangover the next day. It seemed to stay with him throughout the week. His birthday passed and he celebrated with friends, not actually noticing what was going on. He refused to think, spending the entire week on autopilot. Finally, the 19th arrived and he found himself alone on the sofa with Fusker. Jeremy hadn’t mentioned working late that night. James brought his knees up to his chest and laid his head on them.

 

 _James,_ he heard the negative voice. _You knew it couldn’t last forever, James. Be thankful it’s lasted this long._

 

 _No,_ he argued. He sounded like a child refusing to give up a toy. _He’s not shagging her_. _Why would he stay with me this long if he didn’t love me?_

 

 _That’s a feeble argument and you know it. People have affairs left and right. You’re not good enough. Be proud of yourself, though. You fooled him for this long._ He felt tears trailing down his face on falling onto his denim-clad knees. _Don’t be sad… You knew it couldn’t carry on, surely? What were you expecting? Marriage? Children? No one even knows about your relationship. He was too embarrassed to-_

 

_No. We were going to wait until after-_

 

 _That’s not true._ A sob wracked James’s body. Fusker curled closer to him. _You. Are. Worthless. It’s the night before your anniversary, James. Where is he?_ May drank himself to sleep, not hearing when Jeremy came in a bit passed one.

 

  
“Good morning, May,” Jeremy said, planting a kiss on James’s cheek and waking him up.

 

“Oh, god. I feel awful.”

 

“You’ve been drinking some pretty strong stuff, it looks like,” Jeremy said, picking up the empty bottle and reading it. “I thought you finished this the day you bought it.”

 

“I bought two bottles.”

 

“Oh. I see. Want some coffee? Oh, happy anniversary, by the way. Want some coffee?”

 

By the way, James heard replay in his head. Happy anniversary, by the way.

 

“Yes, happy anniversary. Tea please.” Jeremy got to work on their beverages and went to his room, grabbing an article he was in the middle of editing. He took a pen to the paper, editing as the drinks were prepared. James grabbed his tea but let Clarkson’s coffee sit where it was. _Not now_ , James thought to himself. _You have work soon. Now is not the time to confront him._ He looked at Jeremy and was filled with such rage, he shook. He put down the cup of tea he clutched so tightly it had burned his hands. Throughout the day, the anger started to taper off. He focused as much as he could on work but was completely thrown off once lunch rolled around. Jeremy walked into his office and closed the door behind him.

 

“Feel like going grab lunch?”

 

“I’d love to, but I can’t,” James said, exhaustion evident in his voice. “I’m trying to finish my article and edit Emily’s early so I don’t have to stay late.”

 

“Right. Speaking of, I think I’ll be a little late tonight,” Jeremy said, leaning back in the chair. James wanted to grab the ceramic pen holder near his hand and lob it at Clarkson’s head. The anger spiked, but he made himself keep calm.

 

“On our anniversary?”

 

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll get home close to six or seven, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” Jeremy said, standing. “Well, I’m going get something to eat. Want me to bring you something back?”

 

“I’m not hungry,” James said as he started to type again.

 

“Don’t be angry,” Jeremy pleaded. “I’ll get back as early as I can. Promise.”

 

  
“James! James!” Jeremy called, slamming the door with his foot. “I’ve gotten us a curry!” There was no response. “What are you doing in the kitchen?” Jeremy asked, putting the bags of food on the table. James slammed the spoon he was stirring with onto the pot.

 

“Trying to conquor France, obviously. You didn’t tell me you were getting food, so naturally I cooked.”

 

“It’s no big deal,” Jeremy said calmly, waving a hand. “Just box it and we’ll eat it tomorrow, yeah? Can you get out the _good_ wine?”

 

James mumbled, still not looking him in the eye. Jeremy watched him grab the glasses and begin to pour. A few minutes later, and Jeremy was tucking into his chicken curry. James was drinking more than eating; he was already on his third glass. Jeremy seemed to notice, but he didn’t mention it. “I finished the article.”

“Sorry?”

“The article. You know, the one I stayed to work on. I finished it.” Jeremy said in between bites.

“So, I was talking to the lads down at the pub-“

“When?”

“Last week. You couldn’t come, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember.”

“Yes. Ridley gave up drinking-”

 

“What a boring life he will lead,” Jeremy said, taking a sip of his wine.

 

“Hmmhmm. We took the piss out of him for getting absolutely blind drunk at the New Year’s Eve party.”

 

“That was a lot of fun, that,” Jeremy said with a chuckle.

 

“Yes, I heard you had fun.”

 

“Sorry?” Jeremy asked, genuinely confused. This alone outraged James. All of the feelings he had surpassed throughout the week flew to the forefront.

 

“I had fun, but apparently not nearly as much as you had. You were working on an article a little after midnight, weren’t you?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“No one could find you. Or at least I couldn’t. Davis said he did-“

 

“What article-“

“The article? Isn’t that what you’ve been calling Alexandra? Pretty rude of you, really,” James said. His hands were shaking. “You fucked her.” The words hung in the air. James’s voice was incredibly low, barely over a whisper. “You fucked her. Where’d you do it? The meeting room? Or did you fuck her on my desk?”

 

“James, we were drunk-“

 

“Bollocks! You drove us home! But that’s not the only time you had her, is it? You’ve apparently been shagging her for months! I’m not as daft as you apparently think I am.” Silence fell again. James’s voice was shaking. “Why would you fucking do it?”

“I told you, we were drunk. She kissed me first and she-“

“Please stop with the LIES!” James yelled the last word. Jeremy jumped.

“YOU WON’T EVEN LOOK AT ME! You moronic, careless bastard!” James yelled.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, quietly.

 

“Please. Stop lying to me,” James said wiping his face. He kept his voice quiet for fear of it breaking. He was quickly approaching the point where he wouldn’t care. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeremy. Sure, we haven’t been together very long. But we’ve been mates for eleven, nearly twelve bloody years. You’ve been my best mate-“ James halted suddenly. He was on the verge of tears. He let out a breath.

 

“I-“

 

“Shut up. Eleven _years_. We’ve been there for each other. I didn’t want this as much as you did, remember? You were the one who threw a tantrum if I brought someone home. You started this. I have never felt so betrayed-“ he stopped again. “I have never felt so betrayed in my entire life, Clarkson. Why? What did I do wrong? Please tell me so I can fix it.”

 

“James, you didn’t do anythi-“

 

“Why wasn’t I enough?” The question hung in the air. The two started at each other for a moment, both unmoving. A few minutes passed and James put his plate into the sink, and walked quickly to his room. On the way, Jeremy reached out and tried to grab James’s arm, who pulled away and looked Jeremy in the eyes.

 

“If you touch me, I will kill you.” James turned on his heels and packed as many things as he could as quickly as he could. He decided he’d ring Colin and let him know he’d be spending some time at his place for the next week or so. James was livid, but he wasn’t about to let this relationship die. He just needed some time. He and Jeremy could talk it out after the pain went away. Everything was going too well before to let it all fall to pieces now. He left the flat without a word to Jeremy. 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

AN: Warning: This chapter has a few dark scenes. Suicidal thoughts and a rough sex scene. 

 

 The room was mostly dark, and the only sound was from an animal Attenborough seemed to find slightly more interesting than the one before. The light from the television danced around the room, some flickering over James May. He wasn't particularly interested in the program but felt too depressed to change the channel. He sat on the sofa and sipped his seventh lager of the evening.  His drinking had started as soon as he left work, which had been around noon. It _was_ Saturday, and he wasn’t exactly needed, but it was something to do all the same. When he made it home, May started working on the bike he and Colin had recently bought. It was old and barely running, so the two had decided to take it on as their new project as Colin had said May needed a new hobby. His friend had noticed James's drinking was starting to get out of hand and pointed this out multiple times. He had worked on the bike for a few hours, hence the low drink count. James figured he should try to bump up those numbers; he took a large gulp of the lager. He looked at the clock. 5. _The ceremony starts in what? An hour, is it?_  He settled on that. Turning off the television and grabbing his drink, he walked to his room and didn’t bother to turn on the light. James had the smallest room of Colin’s three bedroom flat. Since the window was already partially open, the room was pretty well illuminated. He opened the window to let the air circulate, the cold breeze sending a chill down his spine. The weather had been slightly on the nippy side as of late. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey under his bed. This whiskey he kept for particularly difficult nights, and he knew this night one would join the list. Crawling under the sheets, he set the spirits on his bedside table. He remembered the bruise he got when moving the small table from the flat he and Jeremy had shared. His mind started to wander back to the middle of March the year before last.

 

“I just have a few more things to move. I'll probably stop by after work tomorrow and grab the rest. Where would you like the key?” James asked rubbing his face and holding the phone in between his shoulder and ear. His other hand was pressed firmly against the wall.

“If you could just leave it on the table, that would be lovely,” Jeremy answered. "How are you doing, mate?” Before James could answer, Jeremy quickly covered the question with, “Have you started the other job?”

“Monday was my first day. Clarkson-“

“You’re welcome for the good reference! _Autocar_ is a great magazine, you know. Aren’t you working for another one as well?”

“Yes. I’m going to start a column for _Car Magazine_  . I wanted to talk ab-“

“Everyone was sad to see you go. Especially Roslyn. She said you weren’t too bad looking, and I told her I’d mention that to you. If you fancy a da-“

“Shut up,” James interrupted. He tried to keep his voice steady.

“It’s been over a month, May.”

“Stop it, or I’ll hang up.” There was a pause. Jeremy’s voice shifted to a tone that sounded as exhausted as James felt.

“Sorry. I was just trying to keep the conversation light. How’s Fusker?”

“He’s fine. He's taking to the new area. Jeremy, we really need to talk.”

“I can’t think of anything we haven’t said.”

“I’m not going to beg you to come back, mind you, but I was wondering… Well, you decided what became of our relationship without taking into account how I felt. Why don’t we give it another go?” James hated asking. He was not pathetic. He was a grown man, and he hated feeling as vulnerable as asking that question had made him feel."I really think we could fix it. Just give me time, and I'll work on whatever it is that started this. Yeah?" 

“We’ve talk about that.”

“We haven't.”

“I think it’s best we stay apart, May. I have to be honest, when I walked into the flat last week and most of your things were gone, it didn’t feel nice. It hit hard, and I miss you, but I’ve been healing. It’s time you start to do the same.”

“It’s been a month, you unfeeling bastard,” James said.

“I’m sorry… I really am. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Listen, if we meet and talk about this-“

“That’s not a good idea,” Jeremy interrupted. James let out a sigh.

“Fine. Can you please tell me why then? Give me the honest reason. I deserve to know what I've done that was so bloody awful.”

“I don’t know.”

“Absolute rubbish.” There was a pause before Jeremy’s voice answered.

“Honestly, I wanted more than you could give me. I know that hurts to hear, but let me explain.” James had been slightly taken aback.

“Please do. You do realise you had all I could give?”

“I do. It just wasn’t enough,” Jeremy said quietly. It had been as James suspected. There was a slight, sick satisfaction at being right. He knew the pain would wait to lurch in once he was alone. “I want to be able to talk about my relationship. It’s a miracle we kept ours a secret for as long as we had, May. God knows what would have happened if our friends and family found out-“

“It wouldn’t be as bad as you think.”

“We both know that’s not true. I wish that weren’t the reality, but it is. With AID’s and-“

“The numbers are declining-“

“Not enough. And aside from that, James,  I want children. I want to get married, have a family with a dog, the whole lot. If we could have that, I promise I would stay."

“So why did you cheat with her?” James didn’t even want to say her name. There was another short pause.

“I really don’t know, James. We clicked. She can give me everything I need. I’m happier than I’ve been for quite some time.” Bloody Nora, did that sting. James felt something sit in his throat. “I really am sorry. I do love you-“

“You don’t, though, do you? Don’t say that. I don’t need your pity-“

“It’s not pity. I wish I could stay and have all the other things. I need a family, James, and that’s stronger than our relationship. I’m sorry.” A full minute was spent in silence. “Hello?”

“Yes, I’m here,” James said, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor.

“So, how is living with Colin? Is he being as boring as usual?”

“He’s not bad. Has she moved in with you?”

“No, she hasn’t. We’ll see how things go.”

  
 _We’ll see how things go_ , James heard echo in the back of his head. _Things must have gone really bloody well. How long ago was that?_  He thought carefully, trying to count back through the months. To be fair, the past year had been a blur for him. _February of ’88?_ _A year and a month, that’s been. Must have gone incredibly well if they’re getting married._ The thought sickened him. He was starting to make progress when he received the news. Of course, the months after the relationship were terribly difficult for him; his record of depression mixed with the split had led him to more than a few rough nights. Once or twice he even considered ending it all. Of course, he never sought out to do it. He knew this would pass, eventually. James had to accept the fact that when he fell for someone, he fell hard. The trouble getting up was more problematic than it was worth. Months had passed since the suicidal thoughts, and he spent a few more completely numb. It wasn’t until October of 88’ that things started to get hard again. At the beginning, he lost Fusker. James would occasionally let the cat outside to stretch its legs, and the animal had always managed to find its way home. One day, however, it never came back. James spent the next day searching for Fusker, setting up flyers, the whole lot. He was rewarded with a phone call two days later. The cat had been killed a few blocks away. James wept a little more than he cared to admit and called Jeremy almost immediately afterward. He was a wonderful cat, as well as the last tie James had to his relationship with Jeremy. That cat was from one of the most content moments of James’s 26 years. It took all he had not to cry over the phone, especially after Jeremy showed little interest. He was too excited for his appearance on one of the shows they used to watch.

  
“Which one?” James asked.

“ _Top Gear_!”

“That’s exciting. Congratulations.”

“Isn’t it brilliant?! And with the wed-“ Jeremy stopped abruptly.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing, May. Well, I’ve got to go. Have to call mum.”

It wasn’t for another month that Jeremy finally told James about the wedding. All James asked was “Why so quickly?” Clarkson responded with something along the lines of “We’re right for each other.” James knew the real reason was that Jeremy wanted to start on the family as quickly as possible. He spent that night very much as he was spending the current one; drinking alone. Colin traveled quite a bit, and their other flatmate had left shortly after James had moved in. He felt those horrible thoughts and feelings slither through his mind.

_What’s the point, James?           You’re still not good enough. Not for Jeremy, Paul, Sarah, your parents, your family…           The list goes on. Look at you grieve over_ _something that ended so long ago._

_Shut up,_  James said to himself. _It hasn’t been that long._

_Well, Jeremy’s moved on. Why haven’t you?_

_I fell too hard-_

_For a relationship you must have known was a dead end. Here you are, drinking yourself silly over someone who knew better than you. He saw you for the worthless rubbish you are._

_Stop being melodramatic,_  he said the irrational voice. _Just have a drink._

 _Drinking won’t work forever, you know. Why would you want to live with this pain? You. Are. Worthless._ He felt his eyes starting to sting. _Do it, James. Come on. What do you have to show for the last three years? One sided heartache. But that’s how all of your relationships end, isn't it?_ A tear ran down James’s cheek. He took a steadying breath. This one was steadily climbing to one of the worst nights he could remember. His mind flashed back to the day before his birthday. He had been working ridiculously hard that week, and his sleep schedule was horrible. James, being a creature of habit and overtired, had nearly bought two curries. After correcting the order and only buying one, he went home and sat on the sofa. Flicking through the channels, he found _Butch Cassidy_ playing. It was already halfway through the movie, and James didn’t mind a good wallow every now and then. A few strong drinks later, he was brought back to when he and Jeremy sat on the sofa, eating curry. He heard Jeremy’s voice.

_“Come back! You’ll miss the best part!” Jeremy said, motioning back to the sofa._

_“just getting a bleeding drink. Calm down. You think the entire movie is the best par-"_

_“SSSSHHHHHH!” Jeremy said excitedly. He said the words in time with the movie. “‘Look, I don’t mean to be a sore loser… But when it’s done, if I’m dead…’”_

“Kill him,” James said aloud, turning to face Jeremy. He was greeted with an empty sofa.

That night was difficult. He had been just as cruel as he was at present. _You’re being outrageously unkind to yourself. Stop thinking and go work on the bike, you numpty. Stop sulking._ James stood and brought the whiskey with him. Colin had a garage, which James considered a massive blessing. After nearly an hour of heavy drinking and tinkering with the bike, James grew increasingly frustrated with himself for his unsteadiness. The frustration he had been trying to bottle up had reared its head when he tried fiddling with the springs in the brakes. He had taken them off and was drunkenly “testing” them when the spring flew and hit him in the mouth.It wasn't much, but it had been just enough to send him over the edge. He tasted blood. The anger and pain swelled inside of him. He grabbed the nearest spanner and threw it as hard as he could, barely missing the window. He sank to the floor and let out a sob.

_Do you need another testament to how useless you are? Or was that enough?_

“That was enough,” James whispered. He finished off the whiskey within minutes and stood up shakily. He thought about looking for a rope, or something to end it painlessly. Finally, he found a cord that would do the job nicely.

 _Stop this!_ yelled his rational voice as he tried to stand on the chair. _James, you need to stop! You are being irrational! You are loved! You have a purpose!_ His hands were brought over his head, rope shaking in his hand.  _How will your family feel? Your mum and dad!_

_They'll be thankful._

 

_You know that's not true!_

_You couldn’t keep a job. You were a financial and romantic burden to Jeremy for three bloody years. You’ve done nothing but disappoint everyone. You can’t even put on a bloody brake pad._ He couldn’t manage to tie the knot, as his hands were shaking and the room was spinning aggressively. He decided after about seven attempts that it was too much work to do clattered, so he climbed down and decided the morning would be a better time to give it a go. He heard his rational voice, near silent, rejoice in the back of his head. _Looks like we’ll live to see another day_ , he thought. A heart-wrenching pain hit him square in the chest, followed by sobs. Before he knew it, he had made it back to the sitting room and laid on the sofa, which is where Colin had found him the next day. The morning had brought more than a massive hangover and disapproval from his flatmate; the morning brought clarity. He decided it was time to move on. No person was worth this pain and agony. The week after, when James was nearly positive the honeymoon was over, he called Clarkson and let him know they needed to take a break. He’d call when he was ready to be mates again.

Life, afterward, had started to look up again. He’d go to the pub with friends, tinker with fiddly objects, read, etc.. Anything to keep his mind busy. Due to his lack of deep thought, time flew. He learnt that Sarah had moved to London, and he decided to give her a call. They had dinner and sex afterward, ending with James promising he’d give her another call sometime. She had seemed to change; she was calmer than she had been.

As for his feelings for Jeremy, time had dulled James's longing to a dull throb. Certain things would trigger painful memories which James pushed to the back by performing one of his many mind-numbing activities. Or he’d drink. He grew closer to Colin, who had replaced Jeremy as his best mate. If anything, that awful night had been what James needed; rock bottom forced him to climb up.

Sixth months later, he still hurt more than he would have liked, but it was manageable. He was making slow and steady progress. That was until he had gotten a phone call at work one afternoon. He was just about to leave when the receptionist buzzed him and said he had a call on line 3. It was Jeremy asking to meet that night for dinner. James, skeptical and unsure, decided dinner wouldn't be that bad of an idea. He’d at least get a free meal.

  
“Did I mention you look terrific?” Jeremy asked, moving the salad out of his way.

“You look awful.”

“Well, that’s not really the response I was looking for. A ‘Thank you’ would have sufficed,” Jeremy said with a light chuckle.

“Was that attempted flattery?” James asked.

“No, May. Don’t be so suspicious. You'll hurt my feelings." There was a pause. "I was just saying you look nice.” There was a silence.

“Sorry.”

“Me too. I know you wanted to keep the distance between us for a bit longer. I completely understand it. I just needed a friend tonight.”

“Why is that?” James asked. He was keen to get the explanation for the random invitation.

“Later, later,” Jeremy said, waving his hand and taking another gulp of wine.

“You should probably slow down.”

“There are many things I should do, May. Slow down is way at the bottom of my list.” The meal continued and by the end, both had nearly completely caught up on the each other’s lives. As things started to normalise between them, James grew increasingly uncomfortable with how comfortable he was feeling. They had both had more alcohol than they should have, which is more than likely why James had accepted the nightcap Jeremy had offered. Seeing the flat for the first time in so long sent a sharp pain in his chest. After a few deep breaths, he powered through. He accepted a glass of wine Jeremy offered him, and the two sat on the sofa. The conversation was still relatively light but got deeper as the night progressed.

“Thought about you the other day,” James said.

“Really?”

“I was flipping through the telly and found that one episode of _Dad’s Army_ we both hated.”

“The dance episode?”

“Exactly. Not their best.”

“Something similar happened to me the other day,” Jeremy said, setting his glass on the table. “I was going through things in your old room and found _Where Eagles_ _Dare_. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry a bit.” James was surprised by this openness. However, he decided it was better to keep the walls up.

“Why were you going through the other room?” he asked, draining his wine.

“Oh, you know. A bit of cleaning. wanted to make sure Ali didn’t leave anything behind.” Thankfully, James hadn’t been drinking when this was said. He would certainly have sprayed the room with a decent red.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah. It’s been tough. She left me,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“She and Ridley got along better than I knew. She went with him nearly a week ago.” He was so shocked, James couldn’t think of anything to say aside from “Sorry.”

“It’s… Well, it’s over. So now it’s time to pick up the pieces, right?”

“So is that why you called?”

“I guess. I was tired of being alone. And your not an alcoholic if you’re just drinking with a friend, right?” The room seemed to be spinning. James felt like the situation was rapidly slipping from his control. Jeremy was married. Jeremy was NOT single. They shouldn’t be sitting inches apart, both tipsy and alone on the sofa of their flat. Jeremy must have seen the panic in James’s eyes. A moment later he reached out a hand and cupped James’s cheek. May couldn’t help but lean into the touch. For a solid moment, it felt like the way things had been when everything was wonderful. A gust of warmth flooded the hollow of James’s chest, a hollow that had seemed to be too cold for too long now. Jeremy leaned in and let his lips brush James’s. It was the familiar lips he had grown to love. It was the past. _It  is the past_, James corrected himself. Panic surged through him again and he stood abruptly.

“Sorry. I’m going leaving.”

“No, please wait,” Jeremy said, grabbing May’s arm. He brought him closer. “Look, I know I owe you for everything I’ve done to you. I hurt you, James. I know I'm in no position to ask for favours, but... I just… Please… Would you stay tonight?” The look Jeremy had on his face nearly broke James’s heart. Clarkson was begging him to stay.

“If only you had said that two years ago,” James said, trying to stay strong and regain at least a bit of control.

“I know, James. I’m sorry,” he said, kissing the shorter man again.

“Get off!” May shouted pushing him away. “You can’t just call me when you’re lonely!” He was halfway to the door when Jeremy grabbed his arm and turned him around roughly. Pain spike in James’s arm.

“Look at me. I may be lonely, James, but I promise that’s not the only reason I called you. I still want you as a mate. I need you in my life. The last two years have been hell. Please stay.” What happened next, James could only blame on the alcohol and tension. There was no reason for what he did next. He grabbed Clarkson roughly, too roughly really, and brought him in for a harsh kiss. It was passionate but furious. Jeremy growled in the back of his throat and grabbed James by the collar, pushing him roughly against the wall. The sound of his body making contact echoed throughout the room. Jeremy kissed him back with equal frustration. A moment of rationality hit James and he pushed Clarkson back.

“Stop,” he said breathlessly. “We can’t-“ Jeremy had walked back to James and cupped his erection through his trousers. He held it tightly, just on the line of pain. May was back up against the wall, a small whine slipping from his lips.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Jeremy asked, shifting his hand. "You seem to be enjoying this." May could barely speak. "So? Stop?"

“No,” James whispered. Jeremy kissed him softly, but drew away a moment later to bite the younger man’s lip. James moaned. He could taste blood afterward. Grabbing May’s arse tightly, Jeremy had him wrap one leg around his waist. The next moment, he hoisted James up, legs both around the taller man’s waist. For a split second, James noticed that his ex-lover had lost a bit of weight since the last time they had done this, but the thought was pushed away when Jeremy thrust his hips into James’s. There was just enough friction to frustrate James further. He needed skin on skin as soon as possible. Unwrapping his legs and standing again, he reached for the buttons on the other Clarkson’s shirt.

“No,” Jeremy said lowly. He pinned the shorter man’s hands above his head. He kissed May a bit longer before working on his buttons. Soon, he had completely undressed James. May had no idea what to do, or what Jeremy would let him do, rather. Returning his hands to James’s above his head, Jeremy let one hand trace up and down May’s pale frame. “Get into my room and bend over the desk.” The order alone almost made James moan. He did as he was told and waited. Moments passed and he was joined by Jeremy, who started to take off his trousers and pants. “Another thing you left,” he said, holding up the lubricant. “I figure it doesn’t go off,” he said, slipping on a condom and coating his hand and erection in lube. Seconds later, he grabbed James by the back of the head roughly, and forced him to turn and face the wall. The hard wooden desk was cold against his skin. Jeremy forced his legs open, and before James could actually comprehend, a finger was pushed into him. He bit his lip, but a whine escaped them before he could stiffen it.

“Like it?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes,” James hissed. A few rough thrusts later and a second finger was added. Before he could fully adjust, they were withdrawn. Something heavier and thicker was placed at his entrance. James started to speak, about to ask for more preparation instead, when Jeremy thrust into him. James let out a cross of a moan and a scream. A punishing pace had set, and James had to put his hands on the wall to avoid his head hitting it. Jeremy was going too hard, and it had been too long for James.

“Please,” James whined. “God, Jeremy, wait-“ the pace quickened and tears rolled down May’s cheeks. His eyes were screwed shut so tightly, he saw stars. The anger and frustration he had felt over the last two years came to the forefront, and he genuinely had a desire to hurt Clarkson. He wanted to do whatever he could. He started thrusting his hips backward to meet the thrusts, intensifying the pain he felt. A few moment later, he realised it was more himself he wanted to hurt, not Jeremy.

“Come for me,” Jeremy said, reaching around and grabbing May’s cock. He gave a few pumps later and James was coming. He couldn’t stop himself from crying Jeremy’s name. A few thrusts after and Jeremy came quietly. He laid on top of May’s back until he recovered enough to take off the condom. He grabbed May’s arm and brought them over to the bed. They laid under the sheets, Jeremy facing the opposite direction of James. May was looking around the room: old, familiar, comforting. He moved to Jeremy and wrapped an arm around his waist. May was close to nodding off when he felt Clarkson start to shake ever so slightly.

“Jeremy?”

“Mhm?” he answered. James could tell he was crying. He was shocked back into reality. This wasn’t what he wanted. This isn’t the past. This isn’t a new beginning.

“I’m leaving,” James said, getting out of bed as quickly as he could, despite the pain. He would be sore in the morning.

“No, don’t. I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, sitting up and wiping his eyes. “It’s just so soon.” James didn’t respond. He continued to get dress. “Please don’t leave.” The request sounded so weak, James couldn’t help but hesitate.

“You do realise you cheated on me, yeah? That DID happen. Remember? After three years, you cheated, on me. I can’t be here. I was just starting to…” He felt emotion starting to build. He looked at Jeremy, who was sitting up with the grey sheets covering his lower half. His elbows rested on his knees and his dark brown, bushy hair was tasseled. James felt another stab of pain at yet another familiar sight. “I need to leave,” he said again. Moments later, he was out of the door.

James didn’t answer the phone when it rang the next day. In fact, he didn’t talk to Jeremy for a few months after. He called in the early months of 1990 and suggested dinner. They ate and caught up on events. Jeremy was a regular on _Top Gear,_ and James had started working for the _Top Gear_ magazine (he had been fired from _Autocar_ for a little joke he’d played). Jeremy had also started seeing a nice woman called Francie. The meeting had ended as any meeting with a mate: farewells and ‘see you soon’s.

From then on James’s life went through highs and lows, and his friend Colin stood in the place Jeremy had. He had seen his old friend maybe six times a year. The feelings James had felt towards the other man had melted from love and resentment to a dull respect and friendship. He had even attended Jeremy and Francie’s wedding in 1993 with very little heartache. He knew deep down that he still loved Jeremy. After a few more years of suppressing it, the feeling buried itself deep enough to ignore. He jumped around from girl to girl, as he, like Jeremy, didn’t feel like keeping his relationships secret. In late 2000, he had taken Sarah Frater out for dinner and was surprised to find she had broken up with her boyfriend of four years. A month later, they started dating. May had realised he was getting older, and she was really the only partner he had that came back. She more than likely was settling with him as well, an idea he wasn’t exactly comfortable with but grew to accept.

2002 was an incredibly rough year. Life wasn’t kind to James; he was struggling financially, with his family, in between jobs, and his drinking habits were slightly more than unhealthy. An invitation from his old friend, Jeremy Clarkson (whom he hadn’t spoken to in at least three years), brought him to a large studio. Jeremy had driven from his home in the Cotswolds to James’s new house in London to ask James for a massive favour. he found his friend completely clattered, babbling on about his favourite World War II aeroplanes. The morning after, James found that Jeremy had stayed in the spare.

“I had a favour to ask and you weren’t exactly in the right state for conversation,” Jeremy explained. He made them both a cup of tea, all the while complaining that James didn’t keep coffee. After the pair were awake enough to discuss things more complicated than sandwich spreads, Jeremy broached the subject of why he had come.

“Listen, we just sacked that bloke from series one. I know you like cars, I know you know a lot about them, and I know you’ve lost your job.”

“How did you know that?”

“Heard it through the grapevine. Also, you babbled about it last night. But anyway, would you please consider it?”

And here James was. Trying to calm himself down before his very first piece of film. He decided on they way that this would either end with him thanking Clarkson or killing him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

AN:I know this chapter ends bleakly. Just stick around until chapter 10.


	10. Chapter 10

  
_Epilogue_

 

James took a long drag on his cigarette, trying to make himself release the building tension in his shoulders. He had tons of pressure on him, and now it was starting to take its toll. He looked at his watch and realised the office would be closing in a few minutes. He stubbed the half finished cigarette out on the wall and stuck it back in the carton. Even though he was now a man of some means, a few uni habits still stuck with him. He caught a reflection in the glass of the door and was momentarily shocked. This wasn’t the first time he was caught off guard by his own reflection. He looked tired and groggy… And old. And grey... He slowly shook his head and tried to ignore the thoughts before they started to depress him. Upon opening the door, he could hear his colleague's booming voice.

How does _no one_ want a curry? Come on! I’ve wanted one for days now!” Jeremy said.

“Well, go get one,” Andy responded.

“I feel like being social! May!” he called as James walked into the room. “Fancy going get a curry? We can watch a movie afterward.” A small flash of excitement passed over James’s face and died.

“Why would you ask?”

“Oh, sorry, mate. Right,” he said, passing it off. “Fine, I’ll get one myself. Who needs friends?”

“Who said you had any to begin with?” Richard Hammond quipped. Jeremy chuckled. They talked for a bit longer before deciding they should start turning off the office lights and leave. On the way home, James stopped at the Tesco’s near his house to pick up a few things. Half an hour later, he was struggling with the keys to his home, only dropping a few things at the door. He had gone through the garage, so he was a short way from the kitchen, where he stored the shopping. After grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass, he had a thought. He could hear the television in the background.

“What are you drinking?!” he called.

“London Pride! It’s rubbish!”

“It’s fantastic!” James yelled back, grabbing the bottle and walking to his living room. Jeremy sat on the sofa, finishing off his curry and watching some movie James had never seen. “How’s the curry?”

“Orgasmic,” Jeremy said, patting the area next to him. James sat and poured himself a glass of wine. “It was well worth the wait. Want a bite?”

“I’ve told you, it gives me horrific heartburn. I would have gotten some, otherwise. But god in his heaven, does it smell great.”

“Just a bite,” Jeremy said, holding his fork for James.

“A bit without chicken, please.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a vegetablist now,” Jeremy said, getting rice and a few vegetables. He fed a bite to James, who hummed with satisfaction.

“You weren’t wrong,” he said. “I know the spice is going to punish me later. Might as well take something now.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jeremy said putting the food on the table and pulling James into his arms. “You’re such an old man.”

“And you’ve eaten on my sofa. You know I hate that,” May said, resting his head on Jeremy. He really didn’t care at the moment. He was too tired. “I might just nod off here.”

“Go to bed,” Jeremy said, patting James.

“No, I think I’m comfortable here.”

“I can’t move you, you know. My back has been acting up.”

“And I’m the old one?” James asked, smiling.

“Shut up,” Clarkson said kissing James and holding him closer. “I think I’ll have a small rest as well,” he said sleepily. James smiled one last time before dozing off, completely content.

 

 

 AN: I’m putting this at the bottom to avoid spoiling things that happened in this chapter. That being said, I hope you enjoyed the story! I have wanted to write this for ages now and to see it finished is… I have no words. Thank you all for sticking with it. It means so much to me. I’ve decided I’ll write a second part to this series that’s from Jeremy's POV. Although it will take place in a different time, it will definitely cover some of the events from this story through Jeremy’s eyes. It will also cover how and when they got back together. I should have it published on the first of May 2017 (May, haha). I'd like to thank my collaborators/friends, Mallori and alayat, for helping me come up with a good 40-50% of the plot points. It’s been a wonderful ride and I can’t wait to move on to the next x


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